


Sleighed.

by parlor



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 25 Days of Harry and Draco 2018, Action/Adventure, Auror Partners, Christmas, Comedy, Costumes, Elf Appropriation, Fluff, Goblins, M/M, Mutual Pining, Obnoxious Amounts of Coffee, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Harry Potter, Romance, Uniforms, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-05 09:39:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 25,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16808083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parlor/pseuds/parlor
Summary: Every Santa needs an elf. And every Harry needs a Draco.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm definitely winging this. Let's see where it goes!

Harry had never been thrown out of a department store before. On the whole, he found the experience decidedly underwhelming.

Sat on a folding chair outside the security office of Harrods’ Children's Department, Harry clasped his hands between his knees and looked around with waning interest at the blank walls, a dying fern, a crookedly posted advert on the subtle nuances of hand washing, and a drinking fountain of questionable hygiene. 

Malfoy continued to complain.

“Of all the idiotic things! Just preposterous! Tell me Potter, are you capable of _any_ social interaction that doesn’t result in a brawl?!” Malfoy fumed. He paced towards Harry, then away again, flapping the lapels of his expensive coat. Harry assumed to dispel himself of the indignity of it all. 

“Ginny says it’s not good to fight,” Teddy reminded them, his eyes wide. He looked to Harry for confirmation.

“And she’s absolutely right,” Harry assured, smiling down at his godson before he shot Malfoy a dark look over his head.

Malfoy ignored it. He stopped his pacing and crouched before Teddy, tucking a pale lock of hair behind his ear. “Your godfather is a perfect example of what not to do. He’s made a terrible fool of himself and owes you an apology.”

Harry sputtered. “You do too!”

Teddy looked back and forth between them, his eyes alight. Apologies from adults were very rare, indeed. “And ice cream?” 

“Of course!” Malfoy crowed. He ruffled Teddy’s sandy hair as a wizened old security guard approached them with a grimace. “It’ll be my treat. But Potter isn’t allowed to have one lick until he makes things square with you.”

Harry rolled his eyes and rose from his chair, addressing the guard. “Are we alright to go?”

The guard shook his head, gesturing with the white plastic binder in his hand. “Potter?” He asked, looking skeptical as Harry nodded. “Conroy,” he concluded, glancing in Malfoy’s direction.

“It’s _Malfoy_ ,” Malfoy sneered. Harry grinned.

“The two of you caused quite a ruckus. Nearly tore down the entire holiday display, fighting over that poor boy.” He gave Teddy a sympathetic look, as if he too could understand the misfortune of being under the care of two eccentric wizards. “Usually we’d make you pay a fine. Add your picture to the book and ban you from the store.” 

“The book?” Malfoy repeated with derision. 

“The book.” The guard opened his binder and all three moved to take a closer look. Several surly men, women, and teenagers stared back at them in various states of boredom. 

“Why aren’t they moving?” Teddy asked, looking confused. 

“Eheh, Teddy remember?” Harry had given a strained chuckle, neither the guard nor Malfoy looking none too impressed. “These are the special kind of pictures I told you about. The kind that _don’t_ move.” Harry shrugged, shaking his head at the old guard in a way he hoped suggested Teddy had indeed succumbed to the stress of his situation and ought to be sent home as soon as possible. Perhaps in order to petition for better caretakers. 

Malfoy huffed dramatically.

“Indeed.” Snapping the binder shut, the guard handed it to Teddy to hold, who took it eagerly into his own hands.

The guard leveled his gaze at them. “I must say I’m appalled at both of you. Obviously the pictures don’t move. The statute’s in place for a reason.”

Malfoy’s eyes widened. “You don’t—“

“Yes, Mr. Malfoy, I do. I know you two are wizards, and I know that if it got out that you soft lads were causing trouble amongst the muggles _again_ ,” he said the last word with an especially hard look, "that I’d have to report you to the Ministry, and poor put-upon Auror Robards would have to take disciplinary action.”

“But.. you’re not?” Harry asked hesitantly.

“I’m not.”

“Just who are you?” Malfoy asked, sounding thoroughly put out.

“Robards,” said the guard, only his voice was much deeper and his appearance marginally younger. His frame rippled and stretched until Harry was left with the visage of his boss. He gulped. Harry much preferred things when it had been the old security guard.

Apparently Malfoy felt similar. “Sir,” he began, at least an octave higher than his usual, “I can explain—”

“Don’t bother. I didn’t come here to give you a hard time. At least, not in front of young Lupin.” Teddy looked up from where he’d been changing his face to resemble each photo, his features distinctly feminine, with dark eyeliner and a nose piercing. 

“Here’s how we’re going to solve this.” From his pocket, Robards produced two envelopes. “Since you two can’t seem to put your childish fighting aside, I thought you might like to spend more time with those on your own level.”

Harry had already ripped open his envelope, his face aghast. “A department store Santa Claus?!”

Malfoy was besides himself with laughter. “Serves you right, Potter! A fat belly to pair with your big, fat head! I can’t wait. We ought to bring—” Malfoy’s chortles stopped abruptly, amusement replaced with indignation. “An elf?! Are you mental?!” He blinked. Pursed his lips as if it pained him to add on what came next. “..Sir.” 

“It’s not entirely set in stone. You're welcome to decide amongst yourselves who’s to do what.” Robards crossed his arms. “But you _will_ do it. If you’re to be proper Aurors, you’ll be dealing with all aspects of the public. That includes children. That also includes _each other_.” 

There was no room to argue under such a stern gaze. Even Teddy had looked cowed, and he was an innocent, soon-to-be ice-cream eating bystander in the affair. Having felt a bit of a heel, Harry nodded. He shot a glance at Malfoy, who scowled but mirrored the action. 

"Right." Robards looked satisfied. "Now get out of here. You'll report to me at ten tomorrow morning."

"Here?" Malfoy asked. He looked as if the answer might make him ill.

"Oh no, no, no. I have something a little different planned. Ministry atrium. Ten," he stressed." 

With those ominous words, Robards had given them a short nod, accepted return of the proffered binder from Teddy and apparated on the spot.

Well, Harry thought ruefully with a tilt of his head, the experience might not be as underwhelming as he’d thought.


	2. Chapter 2

Having done a haphazard job of brushing the lingering crumbs from his jumper, Harry exited the Ministry Floo just after nine. He was relieved to find no sign of Robards or Malfoy. His footsteps echoed in the cavernous atrium as he headed towards the drink trolley. 

It was a well-known fact amongst the trainees that Auror Robards had what any fair minded individual might label a caffeine addiction. 

Harry had hatched his plan the night prior, after Malfoy ditched them at ice cream parlor (leaving Harry on his own to float Teddy down from his sugar high, see to the bill himself, and get them both home to settle into bed).

Scrubbing his godson’s cheeks, Harry thought of all the ways he could get a leg over Malfoy. A leg  _ up _ on Malfoy. Malfoy’s legs. (Even after his plan was formed, his mind would intermittently focus all his attention back to Malfoy’s legs for the rest of the night and well into his sleep.)

Body parts notwithstanding, Harry decided to arrive early to fetch Robards’ favorite drink, remind him that both he and Malfoy were junior aurors who needed to focus on their training and talk him down from this Santa ridiculousness. It wouldn’t have been remiss to accuse Harry of being rather pleased with himself. Nobody had to know about that, however. That, or the legs.

Harry rounded the fountain and stopped.

“Morning, Potty.” Malfoy smirked at him for a moment before his mouth disappeared behind the lid of his cup. Across the span of  _ several _ cups lined up before him. The entire surface of the table was covered with takeaway cups, enough steam having come off them to form a veritable wall where they stood.

The witch at the trolley shrugged as Harry gaped at her, and flipped her sign over so that it read ‘CLOSED’.

“I found myself thinking about all these tired commuters on this busy _busy_ morning, who deserve a bit of kindness,” Malfoy said, “and before I knew it I’d ordered the whole trolley in a fit of generosity. It was quite spontaneous. But you know what they say. The early worm constricts the bird, and all that rot.”

“Pretty sure that’s not how that goes.” Harry glared, and took a drink for himself. Malfoy wouldn’t mind, being so  _ generous _ and all. He lifted the cup to his mouth, then paused as he eyed the other man suspiciously. “Why are you in full uniform?”

“Because I’m not a slob,” Malfoy rebuked, the tone of his voice pleasant. “And I’m not gullible enough to believe Robards is actually going to go through with this whole… thing.” He waved a slim hand to encompass the entirety of the situation. “It’s obviously a joke. Robards will see my uniform and understand that  _ one _ of us is here to work.”

“Right.” It still didn’t explain why Malfoy’s trousers were so tight. The material hugged his long legs, and pulled in just the right places to highlight the curve of his pert arse. There was no way those were regulation. Harry wondered if he could manufacture a reason to get behind Draco, just to see a view of them from the back. He cleared his throat. “And the coffee..?”

“Insurance.” Malfoy’s smiled knowingly. “But I’m sure such an underhanded thought would  _ never _ enter the confines of your noble mind.”

Before Harry could properly lie about such a thing, Malfoy shifted where he stood. Something happened at the already tight line of his inseam that drew Harry’s full attention to the thick bugle at Draco’s thigh.. Harry swallowed hard.

His mind returned swiftly. Harry choked and spat everywhere, coffee dribbling down his chin as he gasped.

“This isn’t coffee, it’s swill! He all-but cried. Malfoy did little more than flick hair from his eyes.

“Oh, do you not take yours that way? You never said.” Harry would not have put it past Malfoy to have a full table-full of offensive drinks just to spite Harry, never mind the poor souls who might have thought to grab one once they’d left.

Something behind them shifted Malfoy’s attention and Harry turned to see what it was.

Robards strode towards them, dressed much the same as the previous night, in the old security guard’s dull khakis and dark polo. Years with the war behind them and still muggle clothing were considered a novelty indulgence.

“Sir,” Harry saluted. “Long night?” He gestured to his boss’s slightly disheveled appearance. It caused him to remember that he was not in a position to cast stones, and he performed a quick cleansing spell on himself.

“Eh? Ah, right. Yes.” Robards nodded. Patted himself down. “Long night. You know how it’s like at this time of year, lad. Tracking wizards is a nasty business and I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“Have a coffee, sir” Malfoy interjected smoothly, having slid between them as he forced the aforementioned into Robards’ hand. “I know how much you enjoy your chocolate roasted chestnut mocha cinnamon coffee with caramel syrup, hold the whip.” Though said with a straight face, Harry didn’t miss Malfoy’s eye twitch of disgust.

“Yes, thank you.” Robards took the cup, his posture erect as he began to walk them towards the Floos marked for departure. “You might be an unrepentant suck up, Malfoy, but your attention to detail is without question.”

“Thank you, sir!” Malfoy said. He sounded rather pleased.

“However, I’ve found chestnuts make me gassy.” Robards tossed the cup, lid and all, into the flames.

“Oh.” So much for insurance.

“Now down to business.” Robards glanced around the atrium. It was all but empty, save for themselves and two others off far enough that their voices wouldn’t carry, even with the echo. “We’re traveling by Floo, so have your wits about you. Once we arrive, you’re to change into these.”

He handed both Harry and Malfoy a small pouch, shrunken down to fit inside their pockets. “I’ll introduce you to the clients, and you’ll spend the day accordingly. Any questions?”

“We still have to do this?” Harry groused at the same time that Malfoy asked, “Clients?”

“Yes,” Robards said, quickly. “ _Clients_. Customers, staff.” His raised eyebrow dared Malfoy to argue. Malfoy looked away, a muscle flex in his jaw, and refrained from doing so. Harry could only imagine the severity of the jelly-legs jinx he likely directed towards Robards in the privacy of his head.

“Ah. Before I forget,” Robards had scooped a handful of Floo powder and thrown it into the grate. The light of the green flame cast an verdant series of shadow over his face. “Their sort’s prone to attacking first and asking questions never, so try not to make any sudden movements. Keep your eyes down, but stay vigilant. And for the love of Merlin, don’t. Touch. Anything.” 

Draco raised an index finger.

Robards smiled. “Alright, off we go.”


	3. Chapter 3

Harry tumbled out of the Floo and immediately tripped. He landed on something firm, but yielding, and his hands sought to identify it. He squeezed.

“Potter! I’ll ask you to keep your hands to yourself!” Robards pushed Harry’s hands off of his stomach. He rubbed his flank and muttered darkly about being manhandled.

Mortified and a little disgusted, Harry rolled off the older man and climbed to his knees. Malfoy sat a few inches away, perfectly coiffed, lips curled as he brushed the soot from his cape.

“I wish you could have seen your face. Remind me to put that in my pensieve for later.”

“Sod your pensieve,” Harry snapped. Heat traveled up his neck as he flushed.

They were in an old building with warped floorboards and boarded up windows. A tell-tale draft seeped in from outside to make the room damp, and Harry was glad he’d worn his unfashionable jumper after all.

Draco looked around. “Recently abandoned?”

Harry considered this. At least half a dozen bunk beds were pushed towards the walls, ratty blankets lying on paper thin mattresses. A small hot plate and an empty carton of cigarettes sat on a table surrounded by rickety chairs. If not for the series of fresh footprints leading from the room, and the Floo that functioned despite the squalor, Harry would have reached the same conclusion.

“No.” Robards climbed to his feet with effort. Harry and Draco followed suite.“This is a safehouse of sorts. One of the, er, more,  _ secret _ locations used to place the overflow when larger shelters run out of room.”

Draco’s eyes grew round. “The wandless?”

Robards nodded, his mouth a grim line. “War orphans too. Any individuals who need help getting by. They’re all innocents stripped of their homes.” His jaw tightened. “People lost a hell of a lot in that war.”

Harry frowned. Robards voice was colder than he’d ever heard before. Draco didn’t need to be reminded of what had been lost. He knew better than most, even from his side of the battle. It was why he’d enlisted with the Aurors after serving his sentence. Harry himself, had spoken to Robards on his behalf. Spent the first year of training by his side.

Not that Harry was bothered.

“I thought the issue of the wandless had been taken care of, sir.” He crossed his arms. “From the amount of Ministry galas and fundraisers I’m invited to, I assumed it was the war orphans who took priority.”

Beside him, Malfoy’s gaze slid towards Harry, then fluttered away.

“Of course! The orphans need your help and that is why I’ve brought you here. You remember my instructions don’t you?” Robards gestured to suggest the ringing of a small bell or the swinging of--

“The pouch.” Draco produced his. The reminder of its existence seemed to vex him deeply. “You still want us to put these outfits on to punish us for what happened at Harrods.”

“Training, Malfoy. Now,” he said “I’ll let you both get changed while I round up the clie--,” Robards gave a terrific cough. “--children. Round up the  _ children _ . Dear me, I must have a frog in my throat. I’ll leave you to it.”

The room echoed with the silence of Robards’ exit. A beat passed.

Then Draco was upon him .

“Let me see your pouch, Potter,” he ordered. His hands moved everywhere as he attempted to ransack Harry’s pockets.

“At least take me to dinner first.” Harry’s laughter was nervous, bewildered to have the other man pressed so close with his hurried, heated, touches. This was  _ Malfoy _ for fucks sake.

Harry raised an arm over his head and pulled back just enough to wordlessly summon the pouch to his hand. His heart galloped as Malfoy’s fingers grazed over an exposed hip bone. The heel of his palm pressed down warm and soft.

“Give. It. To. Me.” Malfoy said, each word gasped out between a pant.

The effect was immediate. Harry’s prick twitched violently and he stumbled in surprise as Draco pried the pouch from his hand.

“ _ Thank  _ you,” Malfoy sniffed. He walked towards one of the windows. “ _ Exilium _ .” The boards and their nails snapped, then disappeared. Sunlight poured into the room.

“All that trouble and you’re not even going to resize it?” Harry asked, incredulous.

“I want to see it first,” Malfoy said, distracted. “Make sure it’s better than what I had.”

“Oh course.” Harry rolled his eyes. “You’re touched in the head.”

“Some might call it discerning.” Malfoy placed a hand on his hip. “Think about it, Potter. Santa Claus and his  _ elf _ . Muggles don’t even know elves exist, so they’re excused. But I assume racial appropriation works the same in both worlds.” He busied himself fiddling with the tassels. Harry watched as he worried his lip. “I’ve already been a bigot once. I don’t care to repeat the experience.”

They were beautiful words. It meant a lot to Harry that Malfoy had come so far in such a short amount of time.

“So you want _me_ to do it?!”

Malfoy pursed his lips and made himself pitiful. “It’ll be okay if _you_ do. Some of your best friends are elves.”

“That’s not make you sound any better, you do realize.”

Malfoy shooed him. “Yes, yes, awaken my social conscious later. I want to get this over with. Go over there and change.”

Harry glanced at the dank corner to which Malfoy pointed. Above his head, tucked into the rafters, a barn owl hooted softly.

Malfoy had already stripped his coat. His white undershirt was thin and Harry could just make out the deep rose of his nipples beneath the fabric. He reached for the belt of his very tight trousers, and pale hair fell into his eyes.

Harry stood transfixed. His prick twitched again like a hormonal dowsing rod. “I’ll just…” He hurried into the darkness, glad to hide the way his prick had started to make itself known.

His jumper was tossed over his shoulder. His trousers shucked off along with his trainers. Then Harry pulled the costume from the bag and he was not glad for anything. The barn owl hooted his reproach.

“My thoughts, exactly.” A string here, a tight elastic there.. Harry almost longed for the carefree days of outrunning Dark Lords.

“Are you done yet? It’s not potions masters. I assume you’ve gotten dressed by yourself before.” There was an amused note to Malfoy’s voice. “Unless Teddy has to talk you through it. I always assumed he was the intelligent one.”

“You’re in the wrong business,” Harry grumbled and stepped forward. “You should go into comedy.”

Malfoy blinked. He looked as if someone had slapped him across the face. “I--”

His eyes traveled the length of Harry’s body from top to bottom. Apparently Robards thought it practical to keep the elf costume small. Gold strings held up the small white shorts like suspenders. A cropped white turtleneck without sleeves covered the upper part of Harry’s torso for modesty, but left his entire abdomen exposed. Pointy, plastic, ears were attached to a thin wire headband, covered by his messy hair.

When Draco’s eyes met Harry’s again, tips of his ears were pink. He cleared his throat. “I suppose it’ll do.”

Harry huffed. At least Malfoy was allowed to stay warm. The classic red coat was too large for his thin frame -- he’d looped the black belt snug around his waist, and hadn’t bothered to wear anything beneath so that his prominent collar bones were exposed. He’d forgone the red trousers. Instead he’d cast a color-changing charm on his own and tucked them into his boots.The classic red Santa hat sat jauntily on his head.

He looked. Well.

“What should we do with these?” Harry licked his lips and drew a deep breath. He gestured to the discarded pile on the floor between them.

“Here.” Malfoy tapped his wand and the clothing on the floor flew up into the mouth of the bag. Once his auror coat and Harry’s jumper, trousers, and t-shirt were inside, Malfoy sized the pouch back down. He held it up to the light and surveyed his work with satisfaction. “Not bad, if I say so myself.”

It was at that moment that the barn owl swooped down and nicked the pouch from Draco’s extended hand. It screeched, wings outstretched as it soared through the open window, into the midday sky and soon, out of sight.

Malfoy dropped his arm. The oversized coat slid off one pale shoulder. 

“That. Can’t be good.”


	4. Chapter 4

“What did you do!?” Harry shouted. He rushed to the window with his wand drawn and brandished it towards where he thought he owl might have flown. Maybe he could still go after it. 

“Me??” Malfoy said incredulous. “You just stood by and let it happen!” He grabbed the back of Harry’s top and pulled him away from the window. “To think I expected your lightning-fast reflexes to come into play. Do you know how shit Gladys in Requisitions is going to be when I tell her I’ve lost my uniform?”

“You only lost the jacket, you tosser.” Harry turned his head to stare at him. “You really think my reflexes are lightning-fast?” 

Immediately Malfoy dropped his hand, and busied himself righting his jacket. “Well, not  _ now. _ Really Potter, put some bait on the hook if you’re going to fish.” Harry thought he heard a note of fondness in the words. 

That couldn't be right. He shook his head to clear it. “Well he’s long gone now. And we’re left wearing these.” He gestured to the artificial ears on his head. “Thought I guess it could be worse,” Harry continued thoughtfully. “There was one year, with Ginny, where I stripped down and wrapped myself in fairy lights.. You know, muggle kind with different colors bulbs?” Malfoy curled his lip in a sneer, but nodded. “Err, well, I laid myself out under the tree like a present so she could  _ unwrap _ me when she got home.”

Malfoy eyes were daggers. “Are your mundane sexcapades with Weasley really what we should be discussing right now?”

“Only when the door opened,” Harry raised his voice. The fact that the story seemed to irritate Malfoy spurred him on. “It was Ginny, with Mentor Metaxas on her arm.”

“Meta-- the chairman of the  _ International Quidditch Committee _ ?” Malfoy’s mouth had fallen open despite his reluctance to listen. “While all your bits were on display?”

“To his credit, he didn’t seem too bothered by it. The night wasn’t a complete loss - Ginny’s going to be one of the commentators during the Cup next year.”

“Bully for Ginny,” Malfoy muttered darkly. “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to go back to being upset about the  _ current _ situation.”

Harry stretched his arms out in front of him. “Honestly, I don’t know what Robards is thinking with all this, but if I end up levitating him to Janus Thickey, you’re my witness I exercised all other options first.”

Malfoy jumped. He’d been staring into the middle distance located somewhere in the area of Harry’s bicep. “Huh? Yeah, options. Don’t you think Robards has been a bit off?”

“I literally just said that.”

“No, you tosser.” Malfoy glanced at the door to make sure they were alone. Then he thought better of it and used his wand cast a quick silencing charm. “He shows up wearing last night’s clothes, tells us to get dressed up in skimpy outfits... Have you noticed he keeps mixing up his words?”

Harry shook his head. “Slip of the tongue. I agree something’s up, but he’s been going hard for weeks. He probably just had too much on his plate and it’s caught up with him.”

“Mmm.” Malfoy didn’t sound convinced. “I thought you’d be eager for clues. Doesn’t suspicious behavior usually get you hot under the collar?”

Color flooded Harry’s face even as he raised a brow. “Now who’s fishing?”

Somewhere deeper in the house, they heard a large clatter and the running of footsteps. 

“We ought to get out there.” Draco nodded and together he and Harry entered the hallway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Officially the first prompt to throw me 💦


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fell a little behind, so I'm uploading three chapters today ;;

Harry felt the warmth of Malfoy’s body shift beside him in the darkness, heard his shallow breaths. Used to as he was to his characteristic Gryffindor bravery and tendency to depend on himself foremost, Harry found himself surprised by how much the presence of the other man helped to reassure him as they crept forward. Ever careful, he kept his wand in front of him, unnerved at the way the ancient house creaked and groaned as they ventured further into it. 

From deep within the walls, Harry thought he heard something vibrate. He stopped where he was and Malfoy, right behind him, stuck close to his back. Harry listened, carefully. The sound stopped, then started again, a high-pitched trill that continued to repeat until he placed what he recognized as a telephone.

“Do you hear that?” Malfoy asked in a murmur. His warm breath ghosted the shell of Harry’s ear. Harry nodded. Suppressed a shiver.

“Sounds like a telephone, but I can’t place where it’s coming from.”

The smell of Malfoy’s clean sweat and cedar shampoo filled his nostrils. A hand lodged itself firmly at the small of his back as Malfoy gently nudged Harry forward, the muffled ringing of the phone growing louder.

“There.” Harry did a wordless  _ lumos _ and directed the small orb of light to shine on the wall. Their view clear, Malfoy pointed to a spot on the wall. “I think that’s a latch. Step back, let me look at it.” The ringing behind the wall had stopped, but Harry was certain they were in the right place. The latch was suspicious enough.

An almost indistinguishable click signaled Malfoy’s success. As he cracked the panel open, they could hear a heated discussion coming from inside. Several voices spoke at once, but what had risen above the noise where a few choice obscenities shouted at the top of the speaker’s voice -- the kind that would have made even a centaur blush.

“What the fuck do you mean you can’t get it? Do you think I give a shit if you can’t take your cock out of your mother’s arse long enough to to get the job done?” There was a pause. Snickering from others in the room.

“No. No!. Dodger’s done his part,” the loud voice continued. “Now do yours! And I swear to Merlin that if you don’t get me what I want, I will slit your goddamn throat myself, and use your blood as lubricant when I fuck your skull!”

What followed was the sound of the phone being slammed down into its cradle so hard, Harry wouldn’t have been surprised if the the plastic cracked.

In the dimness, Malfoy’s silver eyes meet his own. He never asked permission for things like this, so Harry appreciated the warning for what it was and couldn’t help from wondering what it  _ meant _ .

“ _ Stupefy _ !” Malfoy threw the panel open and pointed his wand, Harry doing the same.

A dozen small, round, angelic faces stared back at him.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry blinked. 

There had to have been a mistake. He briefly considered walking back through the door to double check, but Malfoy grabbed his forearm and held it with a vice grip. “Potter?” He asked through clenched teeth. “What the fuck?”

A pale young boy, who looked no older than seven, dropped the red telephone he held, his mouth an ‘o’ of surprise. In the blink of an eye, he recovered.

“Hiya, Mister!” He directed this to Malfoy, who stepped back as if he were afraid of contamination. “Mr. Robards said Santa was comin’ but we didn’t believe ‘im! Did we guys?” The little boy turned to his friends and they nodded back. “Is it really you?”

Draco kept his wand pointed. “Do I  _ look  _ like Father Christmas to you?”

“What he means to say,” interrupted Harry as he kicked Malfoy’s shin, “is that we didn’t expect to meet so many of you! What’s your name?”

“Umm... Tommy.”

It had struck Harry as odd that a child had to consider his own name, but he decided to roll with it. Besides, there was something about his round face and full cheeks that made him think of Teddy.

“Alright, Tommy. Tell me, was someone in the room with you just a moment ago? An older man perhaps?”

Another child with blond pigtails spoke up. “You mean, old you like you?”

From the corner, lying across a saggy couch, a tan-skinned boy cupped his cheek, and his elbow dug into the cushions. “Why are your shorts so short? Aren’t you cold?”

The girl spoke up again. “I like them.” She ran up to Harry and circled him slowly as both Harry and Malfoy watched on, stunned. “Oh yes, I think he’ll do  _ just fine _ .”

“I, err -- ” Harry could feel his face heat. Flustered, he slapped his hands over his arse cheeks to shield them from her eyes. “Stop that!”

“Are you spanking yourself?” Asked a very small girl with shiny black hair that fell down her back. “Have you been naughty?”

“Tommy!” Harry attempted for a second time, surprised when he noticed the boy in question was halfway out the door, and anger flitted across his face before he smiled again, a dimple in his cheek. “Where are you going?”

“I was just gonna get Mr. Robards, he told us to wait for you, but now that you’re here we can go!”

“Go?” Malfoy growled, his irritation having grown. “We just  _ got _ here, you brat. Like hell I’m parading you twerps through the streets of Diagon for who knows how long, wearing  _ this _ .”

“But you’ve  _ got _ to!” The room exploded in a chorus of assenting voices. “You’re supposed to take us caroling and ice cream! Auror Robards said so!”

“Yeah!”

“Ice cream!”

“I’d like to say it’s been nice knowing you, Potter--” Malfoy whirled on him. His red jacket fell open to reveal more torso, and when a pert nipple came into view, Harry found that his brain had flatlined.

He could see Malfoy’s nipple. Pert and pink, his perfectly lickable, nibble-between-his-teeth, nipple. How could Harry possibly concentrate on whatever colorful thing Malfoy was about to say to insult him?

“--but we should say our goodbyes here.”

Harry blinked again. He seemed to do that a lot as of late. “Sorry. What?” He asked, his voice thick.

Draco glared daggers. “I’m going to murder someone, Potter and it’s liable to be you. Don’t think I won’t. Azkaban is looking pretty good right now.”

With effort, Harry reached out and gripped the soft fabric of Malfoy’s Santa coat between his fingers. “Put that away,” he muttered, and hitched it higher on Malfoy’s thin shoulders. “We can contact Robards if we need to with a Patronus. It’s just a few kids who deserve an afternoon out during Christmas. What harm could it do?”

Malfoy looked from Harry’s face, down to his hands on his shoulders, and up again. His face was indecipherable. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Harry grinned. It would be fine.

“Hey? Guys?” Harry clapped. He waited until all the children paid him attention, including Thomas and a burly boy in the back who danced a carton of cigarettes between his hands. Just how many things of that nature had been left behind by other tenants for these children to find, Harry wondered. “Why don’t you tell me where Mr. Robards said we were going to do and  _ Santa _ and I,” he emphasized as he glanced at Malfoy, who rolled his eyes, “will take you out for the afternoon.”

“We’re to go to the park to sing! The one off of Etern Alley, behind Gringotts!”

“ _ Caroling _ ?” Malfoy whinged.

Harry ignored him and herded the entire group back down the hall, towards the room with the Floo, and instructed them all to hold hands. They’d have to apparate in teams, six with Malfoy, six with himself. The details decided, it was a short trip from one point to the other, although the amount of magic used to transport them left Harry a hair dizzier than usual.

So dizzy in fact, that he slipped on the wet paver stones of the street as soon as they landed.


	7. Chapter 7

“Smooth, Potter,” Malfoy intoned, as he reached out a hand to help Harry to his feet. The children had all arrived safely, all parts intact. The relief allowed Harry a moment to examine their surroundings as he stood back up on still-weakened legs.

He’d been to Etern Alley a handful of times in the past - it was a street made up of small, practical businesses that didn’t have the traffic of Diagon. A small real estate office, a jewelry appraiser and watch shop, and a plant nursery. The real appeal was the large park where many witches and wizards were known to take long strolls after a day of shopping, their heavy bags secured by shrinking charms to lighten the load.

From where they’d landed, besides an snow covered bench with rust on it’s wrought-iron bars, the paver stones formed a path, flanked on both sides by tall, skeletal trees covered in multi-colored bulbs and fairies, who flitted from branch to illuminated branch. Even in the light of the early afternoon, it was a sight to see.

What was strange was that the street seemed to be all but abandoned, except for them.

Malfoy seemed just as unnerved, though he didn’t show it outwardly. Harry only knew from being around the other man for so long during training. He tended to keep his posture very erect when he was on his guard, breathe more through his mouth than his nostrils. He was doing it now, and as Harry watched, Draco wet his lips.

“There’s probably something going on in the park,” Malfoy reasoned, already leading the way. “That’s where you all are supposed to be singing, isn’t it?”

“I need to pee,” whined the boy with wiry hair, bringing his knees together as he hopped on one foot to the other.

Harry grimaced. “Didn’t you know you needed to do that before we left?”

“I didn’t have to go, then!”

“I’ll take him.” The burly looking boy stepped forward. He looked a bit older than some of the others. His expression was hard and determined -- not exactly trustworthy, but capable of accomplishing whatever he set himself to without inconvenience.

“Go on then,” said Harry. “I’m going to put a tracking spell on the pair of you. Use the loo at Gringotts and come right back.”

Together, he and Malfoy walked the others towards the park. Once through the gates, they seemed to be swallowed up by the trees, the branches heavy with snow dragging their limbs low to the ground. Eventually, at the middle of the park, they reached a clearing with a small handful of wizards sat on benches and stumps.

“Alright then, get to it.” Malfoy shooed them and settled onto a clean bench. He crossed his legs.

“Not, uh!” said the little girl with shiny hair. “We need a wreath.”

Harry looked at Malfoy. Malfoy ran a hand over his face and did not budge. It was up to Harry then. “How’s that?”

“We have to fashion a wreath from the firs. They’re enchanted. It, um.” The girl faltered and Tommy, who rocked contentedly on the balls of his feet, continued for her. “It’s to make us louder. Those trees!” He pointed to a group of Evergreens sitting much further back into the cluster behind them. “We’ll wait here, but don’t take all day, Santa! We gotta sing and collect money!”

“Tch. Figures.” Malfoy curled his lip and stood. “And my name is  _ Draco Malfoy _ . Call me either of those, not _ Santa _ . I look nothing like that tragedy. Potter?” It looked to Harry like the only thing that would get Draco to move was the promise of being rid of the children, if only for a while.

Together they trudged through the snow, back towards the trees. Harry looked behind once to make sure the children were still there. Satisfied when he saw that they’d not immediately made a run for it, he reasoned they might really like to have a bit of Christmas cheer. He felt even more determined to make it happen for them. Perhaps he would learn their names, or introduce them to Teddy at some point. A war orphan himself, Teddy might like to be around others who he could relate with as he grew older.

Once they reached the trees in question, Harry aimed his wand, but Malfoy stopped him with a stamp to his foot.

“Fuck! Malfoy, what was that for?!”

“Besides looking like you should have Galleons stuffed down your pants?” Malfoy’s gaze slid down his torso and to Harry it had felt it like a physical caress. Malfoy pointed to the trees. “You can’t use spellwork to harvest the ingredients for vocal magic. You have to make a physical connection to it. Gather the materials with your hands to add essence.” He shook his head. “You never paid attention in Potions.”

“Hmm,” Harry said thoughtfully as he took the words in. “But how would you have known that unless you were paying attention to me?”

“Blow it out your ear, Potty.” Malfoy’s cheeks stained a rich pink. “We need to reach those branches.” He indicated the boughs located towards the top of the trees.

“That’s almost twelve feet, Malfoy. How do we suppose we do that?”

Malfoy crossed his arms. “Boost me up. I’ll climb on your shoulders.”

Harry really had no solid reason to argue. Although he was a few inches shorter than Malfoy, he was the stockier of the two. Malfoy was the one who had known what was needed, so it made sense to let him take charge for this particular task. But then why had his heart been racing so fitfully at the thought of what was to come next?

Harry turned his back to Malfoy and bent at his knees.

A few moments passed and when Harry did not feel Malfoy approach, he turned his head. “Alright?”

Malfoy’s eyes shot up. They looked dilated, dark pupils almost eclipsing the thin ring of pale blue. His ears and neck were almost entirely red. He looked for all the world as if he’d just been caught doing something he shouldn’t. “Y-yes. Shut up and turn back around.”

Having situated himself properly, Harry ran his hands up the front of Malfoy’s calves and carefully gripped his muscled thighs as he slowly rose from his crouched position to balance Malfoy’s additional weight on his shoulders as he carefully began to stand. When he was stood at full height, Harry moved his hands further up Malfoy’s legs to bring him in a bit closer.

He could feel, rather than hear, when Malfoy’s breath had hitched.

And he felt it, against the back of his neck, when Malfoy’s cock decidedly  _ twitched _ .


	8. Chapter 8

Inside the confines of his very small, very tight, white shorts, Harry had felt the beginnings of his prick starting to fill. His reaction due solely to the fact that of  _ Malfoy _ being hard, and the subsequent and utter degree to which it turned Harry on. He felt the warm, heavy weight of Malfoy against the back of his neck, the way it curved almost in an arch, a single point of pressure at the bend where it made contact with Harry before convexed back towards Malfoy himself. He wondered how it would feel in his hand. He’d wanted to touch it. 

Harry took a deep breath. They were in a public park surrounded by children -- this was not the time to think on it.

“Malfoy are you--”

“That’s my  _ wand _ ,” Malfoy declares, loudly. He didn’t wait for Harry to respond as he scrambled down. His haste caused the side of Harry’s face to meet with some of the branches in his arms, which left light scratches to mar his face“It’s good we’re outside, as it’s the only place large enough to fit your massive ego to have ever assumed whatever it was you were assuming.” He avoided Harry’s eye and gestured his chin down to his full arms. “We’ve enough now. If those brats cry for more, they can come gather the rest themselves.”

Harry nodded quickly. His face continued to feel hot. “What do they really need it for, anyway? Is it some kind of tradition?”

“That child said it’ll make them louder. He’s partially right. Muggles used to view wreaths as a pagan symbol that they eventually appropriated,” Malfoy explained. “There was a time when Wizards used them to as a coded message to one another during the Judeo-Christian holidays. Let people know magic was welcome in the home, and all that.” Malfoy performed a warming charm over them as they emerged from the trees and Harry smiled at him, grateful.

“Rings symbolize strength, Potter. Everlasting life, and what’s more everlasting than an evergreen? Wizards use their boughs as a form of protection. When placed over magical children and paired with their innate purity, it amplifies their vitality.”

“Wow.” Harry considered that as they reached the center of the park. Perhaps he really ought to have paid more attention in class.

“Yes, wow,” Malfoy repeated, voice heavy with sarcasm. “Let’s hope you retain the information this time. How often must your head be confused with a sieve, I wonder? It’s a miracle you scored anything above ‘Troll’ on your O.W.L.s. ”

“Sorry. I was a bit busy, defeating dark lords and such.” Harry glanced around the square. None of the children were in sight. “We did leave them here, didn’t we?”

“We did. But we didn’t do a body-bind and stick their arses to the ground,” Malfoy placed a hand to his hip. “That was obviously our first mistake.”

“I’ll try the tracker.” Harry raised his wand and drew a circle in the air. An image made of light emerged and shimmered before them -- a small map of the area as seen from above. Harry leaned in to study it. “They’re in Gringotts,” he said, relieved that at least they hadn’t lied about where they were going. The others must have grown bored of waiting and gone after their friends.

He started when Malfoy placed a hand on his arm. Long fingers wrapped around Harry’s exposed bicep as he leaned in. “But they aren’t anywhere near the loos. Look.” Malfoy pointed to an area of the map. “They’re on the lower level, in the reception room for--” he cleared his throat. “For the people not welcome through the front. It serves as a back entrance to the vaults.”

“If it’s on the lower levels, they could have wandered down there looking for the toilets.”

“No,” Malfoy shook his head. “I pay attention to detail, remember?” He traced a finger along the path from the main entrance to the other. A solid line that represented a wall sat between them. “There’s no way to get to the room unless you already know about it. The goblins made sure of that.”

There was no need to ask Malfoy how he had come to know about it. “Let’s go.”

Together they raced from the park. Harry could only imagine the sight they made as they sped north along the high streets, Malfoy in his skin-tight trousers and Santa hat, Harry in his slightly elevated stripper costume. He really ought to do something about that.

Gringotts loomed before them with its pillars and great stone facade, the front of the building decorated with lush garland and glittering bows for the season. Real fairies sat upon the greenery, and they emitted a warm glow as they flitted from one cord to the next.

“Just act normal,” Malfoy hissed as they loped up the stairs. The bank had appeared relatively busy, even on such a gray and dreary day. Harry had supposed it was to be expected, as it served as the only bank that serviced Wizarding London. “We’ll head for the toilet. The custodian closet is nearby. There should be an extra set of keys or a service door we can use.”

Harry shook his head. “Let’s just tell them why we’re here. We’re Aurors--”

“Aurors in  _ Training _ .”

“--and the Head Auror put those kids in our care. If the goblins have trouble with that, we’ll call in backup.”

“Why don’t we call the press and Rita Skeeter while we’re at it, cut out the middle man” Malfoy sneered. “Do you know how fucked we’ll be if it gets out that we set loose a group of war orphans in the entrance the bank use for criminals? No one’s supposed to know it exists!”

“We’re doing our job,” Harry scowled. He pushed Malfoy aside and shouldered open the door.

  
  



	9. Chapter 9

The Goblins at the high counter hadn’t looked pleased as the two of them approached. At his side, Malfoy’s mouth was sat in a grim line. Harry felt determined not to be intimidated. He’d faced down worse than this. They were there on official business, and he had every right to be there.

“May I help you?” A goblin with a long, coiled beard, lifted his chin to peer down at them from beneath his glasses.

“Err, yes,” Harry said. He squared his shoulders. “We need access to the reception room. Not this one, the other one. The one downstairs for the bad people...” he trailed off as the Goblin continued to stare. He looked at Malfoy who only pursed his lips, and seemed perfectly content to let Harry string out enough rope to thoroughly hang himself.

Harry changed his tactics. “It’s very important that you give us access. I’m an Auror.” He patted his bottom. Shit. His credentials were in his trousers, currently amongst the clothes the owl had made off with. They were probably halfway across Europe by now. Harry sagged. He would have to do the thing he hated most.

Malfoy examined the Goblin’s brass nameplate. “Besson,” he drawled. His voice held all the affectation of the posh brat Harry had first met in Madam Malkin’s shop all those years before. “Do you know who this is?”

Quick as a flash, Malfoy’s fingers threaded through Harry’s hair and he yanked him forward. He was rougher than he needed to be. His scalp stung as Malfoy’s fingers tightened their grip. Harry’s toes curled in his shoes.

“ _ This _ ,” Malfoy pointed to the scar with his free hand, “is  _ Harry Potter _ . The wizard who saved everyone in this world, including Goblins,” he practically spat the word, “of all things,, from the Dark Lord. If he says it’s important, it’s important. Merlin knows what’ll happen should we fail to get down there in time. I can promise you that it absolutely will get back to the Wizengot that your loyalty was found  _ lacking _ .”

It had been the word  _ loyalty, _ rather than Harry’s name and the legacy it carried, that broke Besson’s stoic expression. “You’re Harry Potter, you say?”

Harry nodded. “And this is Draco Malfoy. We’ve got to get down to that room, right away.”

“Do you have an ID?”

“Besides my scar?” Harry asked, incredulous. Malfoy’s fingers tightened, and Harry found breath had started to quicken. Fuck. He’d started to harden again. He couldn’t help but suspect that he’d never fully gotten all the way to soft. 

“We must have proof, Besson said, with perfect calm. “There are many cases of Wizards and Witches who would disguise themselves as someone such as yourself to gain access. Polyjuice potion for example. You  _ have  _ heard of it?”

Harry kept his face as blank as he could. The last time he’d been to Gringotts on an urgent mission had been in the company of a polyjuiced Hermione, breaking into Bellatrix Lestrange’s private vault.

Not to mention the whole dragon thing.

“We must administer a test. One moment.” Besson stepped down from his seat at the counter and disappeared into a back office. Carefully, Malfoy unfurled his fingers. His hand lingered in Harry’s dark curls for a few heart-rattling seconds, by Harry’s count, before he finally slid them free. “Merlin,” he said, voice throaty as he took off the Santa hat to run a hand through his own hair. “What’s the point of being Harry Potter if you’re not going to reap the perks?”

“Let’s hope this whole verification mess doesn’t take up too much extra time,” said Harry.

“A foot in the door,” Malfoy waved his hand. “Imagine how much longer convincing him would have taken if I’d let you keep gaping at him like an oxygen-starved goldfish.” He snorted as he repeated, in a spot-on impression of Harry’s voice, “ _ the one for the bad people _ .”

“Oh, piss off.” Harry laughed. They straightened as Besson emerged once again through the door behind the counter. In his grey, gnarled, hands, he held a plate on which something gelatinous jiggled. He placed it down on the marble before them.

“What,” Malfoy asked, his lip curled with obvious disgust. “In Merlin’s good name is  _ that _ ?”

Harry poked the the blue blob with his finger, then quickly pulled it back. It looked like a pudding, but no pudding he’d ever set eyes to had quite managed such a sub-atomic shade. A strange vapor wafted off the top, and it carried with it a pungent smell of onions and currents.

“As the saying goes,  _ the proof is in the pudding _ .” Besson handed them each a fork. “Please.”

“Scared, Potter?” Malfoy raised his eyebrow as he twirled his fork. Harry had half a mind to stab Malfoy with his own.

“You wish.” He speared a forkful of the blue monstrosity and popped it into his mouth. In that instant he wanted to gag, the taste so foul. The smell had not prepared him for the reality of the taste, and he did not bother to chew as he forced the morsel down, wanting it free from his tongue as quickly as he might manage.

“You too, Mr. Malfoy,” said Besson, his gaze intense as his eyes moved over Malfoy’s face. It was in a Goblin’s nature to be stoic, but something about Besson’s calm temperament was almost  _ too _ serene as they watched Malfoy take his bite.

Harry took in Malfoy’s profile as he chewed, the way the sharp line of his jaw flexed as he raised his chin to swallow. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and Harry followed the motion, entranced. Malfoy’s neck was so long. A swan’s neck, Harry thought to himself, and chuckled as he imagined Malfoy’s neck stretching longer, until it would be not unlike an albino snake, curvaceous and pale. 

The snake swayed, and so did Harry. To and fro, until he felt weightless with the motion of it. Somewhere far away, he thought he heard Malfoy call his name, but Harry couldn’t reach him, he had been so far away, and he was falling, falling…

  
  



	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My beautiful friend [spock](http://archiveofourown.org/users/spock) is my beta ❤️

Harry awoke without any idea as to how much time had passed before the world had begun to swim into focus. The shift back to consciousness felt like he’d broken through the surface of a still pool, startled, lungs starved for air.

He was on his back in a room so cold, Harry had practically smelt it. It was very bright, and he blinked repeatedly against the glare, his mind slowly beginning to register smooth ice beneath his body and frozen stalactites that hung from the ceiling overhead. His body felt heavy and he struggled to sit upright. He needed to piece together what had taken place after he and Malfoy ate the pudding.

Malfoy.

Heart in his throat, Harry’s eyes darted around the room and landed on Malfoy’s body, curled in a fetal position about thirty feet away. He scrambled awkwardly towards him across the ice, frustrated with the way his hands and feet slid out from under him as he moved. Afraid of what he might find, he mentally steeled himself as he turned Malfoy’s body onto his back.

Malfoy’s pale face was slack, his body limp, but the stilted rise and fall of his chest proved to Harry that he was still alive. Relieved, he positioned Malfoy’s head on his lap and propped him just enough to lightly slap at his face.

“Malfoy? Malfoy, listen to me, you have to wake up. We have to get out of here, now.” Harry watched as Malfoy’s eyes moved rapidly beneath his closed lids. He slapped a bit harder, jostled his shoulders. “Wake up, you ferret-faced arsehole!”

“Harry…?” croaked Malfoy as his eyes fluttered open.

“Yeah,” Harry caught Malfoy before he toppled sidelong from his lap. He’d been so flustered by the use of his given name that he’d jerked violently, his pulse even faster than when he’d assumed Malfoy dead. His teeth chattered as he pulled Malfoy closer. Fuck, it was cold. He’d absolutely had it was these ridiculous costumes. The first order of business was to place a warming charm on Malfoy, then transfigure their clothes into something more suitable.

“Did you.. call me a ferret?”

Harry frowned. His pockets were suspiciously light.

“Har-- Potter?” Malfoy said again, his voice tremulous. Harry shook his head and tried to ignore Malfoy’s intense stare. Merlin’s bloody fucking tits. He looked down.

“Do you have your wand?”

Somehow Malfoy’s eyes grew larger. “Don’t tell me…” he felt around his person, and then sat up properly to check the inside of his coat. Harry could not help but think that it said a lot about their situation that he failed to take the time to become distracted as Malfoy went so far as to shove a hand inside his own trousers to feel around during his own search. “Shit!”

“Hold on.” Harry concentrated and summoned magic from his core, brows furrowed as he channeled it through his arm. He cast the warming charm on Malfoy and then himself. “It’s too cold to stay like this,” Harry indicated their state of dress, “but I’m pants at transfiguration without a wand.”

Malfoy licked his lips. “Do you trust me?”

Harry nodded. They both knew that it wasn’t like he had a choice. But had he said the words aloud, said _Yes, I trust you_ to Draco Malfoy, Harry knew he would have been admitting to something true, be it extremely idiotic and likely, one-sided, on his part.

Long, cool fingers wrapped around Harry’s wrist and guided his hand to Malfoy’s mouth.

Harry felt like he couldn’t breathe. Malfoy’s lips were very soft as they brushed his index finger. Their eyes met, green to grey, as he slid his tongue slowly along the digit. “Cast,” he breathed.

Harry’s prick twitched for the millionth time in only so many hours. It would be so easy to stick his finger into Malfoy’s warm mouth, imagine the suction of his lips as they wrapped around him.

“ _Now_?” he’d asked, voice strained.

He had the impression Malfoy fought not to roll his eyes. “Yes, Potter, _now_.”

Harry summoned his magic again and felt it rise in his chest. Once again he sent it down his arm and through his hand. Malfoy whispered rapidly as he guided Harry’s finger through the movements. He looked down. To his relief, the cropped-top was no more. He now wore a fuzzy white jumper, jeans, and simple trainers. Malfoy had managed to fashion himself a red turtleneck and a simple black coat. However, he kept his skin-tight trousers and boots.

As he climbed to his knees, Malfoy took a shaky breath. “I didn’t realize that would require so much energy.”

“Was it so bad the last time you did?”

Malfoy shook his head. His face was still quite pale, but his eyes sparkled with mirth. “I’ve never done it before. I didn’t even know if it would work.” He gave Harry a cocky grin. “I figured if there were any chance for dumb luck, it’d be with a freak like you.”

“I’m flattered.” And impressed, though Harry kept that bit to himself.

He looped an arm around Malfoy’s neck and helped him climb to his feet. Together they surveyed the room. It was entirely made of ice. Four walls, one floor, all smooth as glass, except for the ceiling of sharp, icy stalactites that glinted ominously where the light hit them.

“Those damn goblins!” Malfoy swore as he examined a wall. “Should’ve known they’d pull something like this. Taking our wands, to what, blackmail us? They can’t _use_ them.”

“Leverage?” Harry guessed, as he mirrored Malfoy’s actions on his own wall. “Revenge? I didn’t exactly endear myself to them the last time I was here.”

“So you broke into a vault and stole their dragon,” Malfoy shrugged and moved to another wall. “It was cruel of them to chain it up in the first place. Griphook betrayed you the first chance he got, and that was _after_ you rescued him.” The _from my home_ section of Malfoy’s recollection went decidedly unspoken. Draco continued. “At least when you saved _me_ , I tried to clean up my act.”

“And how’s that going for you?”

“I _said_ tried.”

Harry snorted, “Well at least you’re--” He stopped. His hand slid over a rough patch in the otherwise smooth face of the ice. “Hey! Look!”

Malfoy walked across the room and peered over Harry’s shoulder. There were fissions in the ice, breaks like spiderwebs that splintered and converged in a series of sharp, jagged lines. “It’ll be weak here. If we had our wands we could shatter it. Or maybe wandless?”

With a grim expression, Malfoy pointed up. “What about those? Too much pressure and your head really will be a sieve.” He bit his lip as he considered. “What if... ”

“Yes?”

“What if we tried melting it,” Malfoy proposed.

“How in the world would we do that?” Harry made a face. “We’d have to generate a steady amount of heat to melt it and we don’t know how thick it is.”

“But it can be done.” Malfoy moved towards him with a predatory look in his eyes. Harry stepped back until he hit the wall and Malfoy pressed his body, chest to thigh, against Harry’s.

“So, tell me. What gets you hot, Potter?”


	11. Chapter 11

“I don’t,” Harry said. His hands gripped Malfoy’s slim waist, though whether to hold him in place or push him away, Harry wasn’t sure. 

Malfoy looked amused as he shook his head. One knee fit itself between Harry’s legs, so that Malfoy’s cock pressed heavy and full against his thigh. Deliberately he rolled his hips, and Harry shuddered a harsh breath as Malfoy’s knee grazed him. He felt his whole body respond, and his prick throbbed at the contact, even through the fabric of his trousers.

“You’re certainly not broken,” Malfoy smiled up at him. “That prick of yours seems to be in working order.”

Harry angled himself just so, and heat flared in his belly as Malfoy’s knee brushed him again, harder this time. Long fingers threaded into the soft curls at his nape and Harry bit off a groan. “Let’s skip past the wand lie this time,” Harry said on a breathy exhale. “I don’t think either of us bought into that one, ‘ay Malfoy?”

In his hair, Malfoy’s fingers tightened. “You’re welcome to check.” He buried his face into Harry’s neck, licked a wet strip over his erratic pulse as he moved his hips in earnest. “You never could keep your hands to yourself.”

“This is your plan, Malfoy. Why should I do all the work?”

In response, Malfoy slid a down Harry’s body and cupped the swell of his prick. Deft fingers unfastened his trousers. Slipped past the elastic of his pants to gave Harry a few, firm strokes as he gasped.

A sudden gust of air. The crunch of feet as they hit the ground behind them.

“Where do those uppity snobs get off?” Grumbled a thin man as he brushed flecks of ice from his apron. The acrid scent of apparation wafts into the air with the movement. He set his bucket down. “Can’t have normal ice like everyone else, never mind it’s the middle of December. Oh no. Have to have goblin ice because it won’t melt, gotta make ol’ Pete--” he stopped short.

The man in the waiter uniform stared at Harry and Malfoy, who stupidly stared back. For a few seconds no one said anything. The man’s eyes dipped to Harry’s open trousers, then darted back up to the ceiling, which did not offer much in the way of comfort. In that moment Malfoy stroud forward. Harry hurried to tuck himself back into his pants to do the same.

“Aurors Harry Potter,” he said by way of introduction, “and Draco Malfoy,” he jutted his chin towards Malfoy. “Stay where you are. Who are you and how did you get here?”

“Harry Potter?” The man’s brows rose so high they threatened to disappear into his hairline. “Harry Potter! By my word, the lads’ll never believe it when I tell ‘em! I knew you weren’t some washed-up has-been costing off his glory days!” He tilted his head to the side and studied him. “Bit shorter than I imagined, tho.”

Beside him, Malfoy snorted. Harry set his jaw. “Yes, great. Now tell us who you are.”

“Arnie Bigglebom, sir,” his voice trembled with awe, still in the throes of starstruck adoration. “I’m a waiter at that restaurant, the one on west Diagon, on the backside of the junk shop? You’d like it Mr. Potter, we have a brilliant chocolate cake that’ll make--” He took in the impatient stares of his audience and coughed. “They sent me for ice.”

“Who’s they?” asked Malfoy.

“My boss?” The boy faltered over the question as if he couldn’t quite understand. “Every restaurant in the area has access to the Goblins’ ice room as long as they pay dues. _The Leaky_ , _Fortesque’s_...” he listed them off on his fingers. “Only wizards with the coordinates know where it is, but the Goblins change them every day, so we’re forced to pay up.” He wrinkled his nose. “What are you two doing here, anyway? Funny place for a bit of rumpy-pumpy, isn’t it?”

Malfoy shrugged, unfazed. “We’re the adventurous type.”

“Then you two are really--!”

“Can you apparate us out, Arnie?” Harry pressed. All thoughts of Malfoy’s rump needed to be tabled until they were out of there, not justified to some teenage gossip who literally dropped in while he was being groped. _But you did your share of groping too_ , a little voice reminded Harry. _And you still want to. You want to do much more than that._

“Sir!” Harry startled and looked down. At the idea of being asked a favor of  _ the _ Harry Potter, Arnie’s entire body seemed to swell with self-importance. His face glowed as he moved closer to Harry and said, “Of course! It’d be an honour!”

There was no time to waste. Harry and Malfoy each took a firm hold of the young man’s shoulders. He felt, rather than saw, the way Arnie beamed up at him as he triumphantly raised his wand.

“Don’t forget your bucket, Arnie,” Malfoy said pleasantly.

With a scowl, Arnie reached forward to pick it up. Then together, they whirled into the darkness.

+++

The noise hit his ears before their feet hit the ground. They’re in the humid back kitchen of the restaurant where Harry assumed Arnie worked. The sweltering heat of several cooktops and a large hearth, stood in the corner, made Harry dizzy after the prolonged cold. He swayed on his feet as Malfoy grabbed the back of his jumper to pull him from the path of a loaded tray. Harry shot him a grateful look, then glanced around.

“Is the Floo connected?” Harry shouldered his way through the crowded room, Malfoy in his wake. He had to shout to make his voice heard over the shouts of confused staff as they began to recognize just who’d landed among them. Harry was eager to leave before they swarmed. “Call the Aurors department,” he instructed Arnie who scurried after them, his bucket abandoned. “Tell them Malfoy and I are on special assignment under Auror Robards and that they need to send a team to Gringotts Bank.”

“O-okay! Should I leave out the part about--”

“It’s important, Arnie! I’m counting on you!” Harry called and turned the corner.

A swinging door led them into the main dining room, where a number of patrons dropped their silverware at the sudden interruption. “Nothing to worry about folks, carry on.” Harry pasted on his most reassuring smile as they weaved between the tables. Malfoy palmed a dinner roll from the plate of a disgruntled man in green robes, and together they pushed through the heavy front doors.

Snow swirled in the air, flurries all around them as well as the ground. Malfoy bit into his roll, then tossed it over his shoulder with a frown. “The Auberge Restaurant,” he read from the placard above them. “No wonder I’ve never heard of it.”

"We need to get back to Gringotts," said Harry as he glanced up and down the high street. "If the kids are still there, we'll need to help the team identify them."

"I don't think there are enough children skulking around the lower floors of Gringotts for anyone to get things confused, Potter," Malfoy shook his head. "We need to get our wands back. You may be able to work wandless, but I know a dozen basic spells at best." The admission looked as if it cost Malfoy a lot to make it. "Then, if the others haven’t already found them, we track the children with your spell."

"You’re not serious." The suggestion that their wands would took priority over innocent lives was not one he could ever agree to and that Malfoy would suggest something so heinous made his stomach drop. “They’re children, Malfoy. Some of those sprogs are Teddy’s age. Hell, if Andromeda weren’t alive, one of them might _ be _ Teddy!”

Malfoy’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “And as a Malfoy, I’d be so quick as to sacrifice family to get ahead, wouldn’t I? Don’t you dare talk to me like you’re the only person capable of being selfless. Yes, they’re war orphans, but those children are stronger than you think. We can’t rush back in there without a plan!”

“You sound like Hermione,” said Harry as he pressed his lips together.

“Good. Another person you wouldn’t have survived without.” Malfoy began to lead them towards the second-hand robe shop. “And exactly who we’re going to call.”


	12. Chapter 12

On his knees in the staff room of _Robbina’s Robe Revival_ , Harry watched as Malfoy threw a handful of powder into the Floo and called in a clear voice, “Hermione Granger.”

The flames roared to life: a brilliant emerald that cast undulating shadows on the walls and bathed the room in its glow until the fire lowered to reveal Hermione’s face . She blinked. “Malfoy?”

“Hello, Granger.” He kept his words clipped. “Potter and I have run into a small problem--”

“Harry?” At once her tone was alert, serious. “Is he with you?”

“Hey ‘Mione,” Harry said. He scooted closer to Malfoy so that he was in her field of vision. The outside of their thighs pressed against each other and neither moved away. “Listen, we had our wands stolen by some Goblins that poisoned us, because we lost track of the orphans Robards assigned us to watch, and I can’t access any of our teammates because an owl stole my ID.”

In the flames, Hermione’s bushy hair swirled about her face. She pushed it back behind her ears. “Harry?”

“Yes?”

“Put Malfoy back on again.”

“As ridiculous as it sounds, he’s telling the truth, Granger,” Malfoy said, with no effort to hide his look of great longsuffering. Not like he’d been a walk in the park either. Bastard.

Quick and efficient, Malfoy recounted everything that had taken place, from the run in with Robards in Harrod’s to the present moment. She worried her lip as she glanced between their faces.

“Doesn’t it seem strange to you that Robards has yet to get in contact?” She asked, eyebrows drawn. “It’s been hours since you’d last seen him at the orphanage. How did he appear at the Ministry this morning? Anything out of sorts?”

Harry thought back. “He seemed tired? Malfoy bought him a coffee he refused to drink, and he had on the same muggle clothes he’d had on last night.”

“Muggle?” Her eyes grew large. “You mean the security guard’s uniform?”

“Yes,” said Malfoy. “So?”

“So?” she repeated, as if she couldn’t believe he’d even had to ask. She drew back and behind her, Harry could just spy the Christmas tree he and Ron had helped her put up a few days ago. It was covered in fake snow, at Ron’s insistence, the red baubles and pinecones being Harry and Hermione’s contributions. “Answer this then,” Hermione continued and she looked grim. “How could Robards have taken on the identity of that security guard?”

“Obviously he took a Polyjuice Potion.”

“But he would had to have known you and Harry would be at that department store at that particular time. He’d have to have taken the guard’s hair, place him somewhere.. Not to mention Polyjuice only lasts a few minutes at a time without multiple doses.”

Harry watched as Malfoy bit at his thumb, a nervous habit he adopted when he was deep in thought. With a rush of arousal, Harry remembered how it’d felt when Malfoy had taken his finger into his mouth, his tongue wet and just a little rough, as it tracked his skin. He tore his eyes away.

“He wouldn’t drink the coffee,” Malfoy slid of his knees, onto his arse, his face pale with shock. “He wouldn’t drink the coffee, or the tea, which both have caffeine.”

“I don’t understand.” Harry hated being out of the loop. “What’s any of that have to do with Robards transformation?”

“You never paid attention in Potions,” Granger said sadly, as if she felt sorry for Snape, Merlin rest his soul. “Caffeine counteracts the effects of fluxweed in Polyjuice motion. There’s no way you can take it if coffee is in your system. As Head Auror, he could never use it to disguise himself, because you and Ron are always talking about how _wired_ on coffee he is all the time.”

Malfoy still looked the victim of a stunning spell. As the only one who still did not seem to know what was going on, Harry took it upon himself to get a solid answer.

He tried to work with what he knew: Auror Robards had transformed himself into a completely different person without the use of the only spell know to do just that. “There’s only ways to change your physical appearance,” Harry murmured. “Polyjuice and being a Metamorph, like Teddy. Robards can’t be a Metamorph, because he’d have to have registered it with the Ministry as public knowledge before taking the job..”

The knut finally dropped.

Harry ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “That man wasn’t Robards, was he?”


	13. Chapter 13

“So now what?” Malfoy leaned back and braced himself on his hands as he looked between Harry and Hermione, whose head was still visible in the flames. 

“We have to find the real Robards,” Harry said as gnawed his lip. “As well as figure out what the imposter could want with those children.”

“As well as what he wants with us,” Malfoy added with a scowl. “There’s a reason he wanted both of us, in particular, to be out of the way.” Almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth, Malfoy started. His head snapped to Harry. “Potter. Where is Teddy today?”

“Teddy?” Harry narrowed his eyes. He knew better than to ask too many questions when Malfoy wore the expression he wore now. “He usually has daycare until early afternoon when Andromeda picks him up.” Harry leaned forward to glance through the open door of _Robbina’s_ staff room to the shop front windows beyond. “It’s about sunset, he should be with her by now.”

“Granger,” Malfoy turned back to the grate. “I need you to go to Andromeda’s home. Don’t use the Floo. If Weasley is there, take him with you and ward all the doors and windows. If Teddy isn’t home, send a Patronus to us immediately. And don’t let on to the Aurors about Robards just yet.”

Hermione nodded. “Of course. What will you two do?”

The more Harry thought on it the more there seemed to be only one logical answer. “Gringotts. But we’ll need to make a stop, first.”

+++

Kreacher dropped the tube of red icing with an audible splat when Harry apparated into the basement kitchen of Grimmauld Place with Malfoy in tow. 

“Master Harry, and Mistress Narcissa’s son, blood-kin to the House of Black, here in Grimmauld Place. Kreacher is honored, sir.” He smoothed his festive green dish towel down as Harry rolled his eyes. Kreacher did this every time Malfoy came by, which was not very often, but often enough that the novelty should have worn off by now. He’d had more than enough time to fawn over Malfoy when he’d shadowed him for Harry all those years ago.

“Kreacher, please.” Harry opened his mouth, then snapped it shut. He turned on his feet and glanced around the kitchen. There pans of red, white, and green on every surface. Some were already in tins, swaddled in tissue parchment paper, which others cooled on wire trays. “Have you been baking?  _ Again _ !?”

He was not surprised when the elf pouted. “Kreacher has been feeling festive this year.”

“You should have expected as much, showing him how to use the telly.” Malfoy leaned his hip against the island countertop, lips pursed as he chose a frosted biscuit shaped into the letter ‘H.’

“Remember? You had him watching Great British Bake-off because you knew it would shut him up and now you’re looking a gift elf in the mouth. Cheers.” Malfoy held the cookie aloft, then took a large bite.

Harry ignored him and headed for the staircase. “We just came to grab something. Kreacher, don’t let anyone through the Floo that we don’t know, alright? Something funny’s going on. Just stay here and keep...baking.”

Up the stairs and into his bedroom, Harry opened the chest at the foot of his bed and removed his invisibility cloak. “Thank God I chose not to bring it this morning,” he muttered as he draped the silken fabric over his arm, careful to keep it folded until he could push back onto his feet.

“Tis’ the Season to be Jolly,” sneered Malfoy, then tensed, his face alarmed.

Harry, who’d stuffed a few more useful items into his pocket just in case, abandoned the chest to rise to his feet. “I suppose? I’d be a lot jollier if we knew what the hell was going on.”

“Fa la.” Malfoy paused, then began again. “La la.” Waved his occupied hand and crumbs from the biscuit fell onto the floor. “La, la la LA LA!” He stamped his foot and his grey eyes glittered with rage.

“Oh no. I can’t take much more of this,” Harry said to ceiling. It said nothing back but the house seemed to creak sympathetically around them. Harry grabbed Malfoy’s arm and led him from the room, back down the stairs. Malfoy protested the entire way, and at one point, threw the cookie down the stairs where it broke into several pieces on the rug.

“Kreacher is going to kill you. And then I may kill Kreacher,” Harry said. “I t _ old  _ him no more  _ Caroling Cookies _ after what happened last year. Now I know why you say American wizards have no taste. They’re the only ones who find something like this funny.”

“Don we now, our gay!” Malfoy nodded, adamant. They’d had a discussion about this once, at an office Christmas party when the Minister’s secretary had sung so out of tune that they jokingly discussed feeding her the cookies to change her pitch.

“Kreacher,” Harry shouted as he stalked back into the kitchen. Kreacher climbed slowly down from his stool, and his old bones crackled and popped. Harry winced. Made a note to see about getting adjustable wizarding countertop installed. “Kreacher are  _ all  _ these biscuits the American kind?”

He inclined his head. “Master Harry might like to give them out to his friends and coworkers. Carolers and children stop by too, as is tradition.”

Harry blinked. He turned to Malfoy who looked put out, but also looked as if Kreacher’s words had given him the same idea. “Apparel. Fa la la, la la la la la troll.” He picked up one of the tins of biscuits and pointed down at it, then Harry. “The ancient. Yuletide!”

Gathering several more tins into his arms, Harry smirked. He’d gotten an idea for exactly how he and Malfoy would get their wands back. “We’re going to take a few of these, Kreacher. I know exactly who has some holiday  _ cheer  _ coming to them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit of a reach but let me have it, okay? Lol


	14. Chapter 14

The wind blew harsh and cruel as Harry apparated them just outside The Leaky, silent as they made their way back towards Diagon Alley. It was darker now but the light of the street lamps lit their path, the curved lanterns decorated with bushels of holly and golden bells, that chimed audibly as they swung in the breeze. 

Harry darted a quick look at Malfoy as they walked up the high street, headed once again towards Gringotts. Malfoy, who usually walked with the erect posture of a soldier or a man of breeding, now had his shoulders bowed forward against the wind. One hand clutched at the expensive looking fabric of his coat, while the other fought to balance his share of the biscuit tins taken from Kreacher. He looked miserable, and for the second time since they’d embarked on this strange misadventure together, Harry’s felt his heart clench with sympathy for him. 

Most would think it unusual that Harry felt sorry for Malfoy, given all they’d been through in the past, but it wasn’t an emotion foreign to Harry. He had gotten to know Malfoy through his rehabilitation, knew how hard he worked and how sensitive he was to the insults and jibes of those around him, thought he acted as if their words couldn’t touch him most of the time. Even now, Malfoy could just have easily abandoned this mission and left Harry to fend for himself -- instead here he was out in the cold doing something that clearly made him uncomfortable just so that Harry wouldn't have to do it alone.

Harry, filled with sympathy, used wandless magic to send an especially strong warming charm Malfoy’s way. He knew immediately when it took effect -- Malfoy shuddered visibly and his eyes darted to Harry, a bit nervous, as if the unexpected kindness put him on his guard. Harry wasn’t too surprised by the reaction itself, but what did surprise him was the tinge of hurt that stung him in the chest. After all this time, did Malfoy still view him as an enemy? Surely they were friends by now, weren’t they?

“What’s the joyful and tri-- plan?” Malfoy shouted. He shook his head to dislodge a white-blond lock of hair trapped in his mouth. The carol jinx had finally begun to work its way out of his system, something Harry attributed to the way Malfoy muttered darkly the entirety of their trip back. 

“Right. Here’s what I was thinking,” Harry began. He moved closer so that he wouldn’t have to yell. At this rate, it looked like London was in for a rather fierce storm, one that would have the streets piled high with snow before night fall. Harry shifted the contents in his hands to one arm so that he could guide Malfoy towards an covered area, one hand on the small of his back. 

Once they were in the secluded alley, Malfoy looked up at him, his cheeks tinged pink. “The plan, Potter. O’ come ye--  _ convince me _ \-- that this is not yet another cause of you flying by the seat of your pants.” 

Harry shook his head. He figured there was a request in there, somewhere. “I mean, sort of?” 

Malfoy gave him an even look. 

“It’s not like we have a lot of time to come up with something sophisticated,” Harry said, exasperated. “We’re going to go in there, get the goblins to eat these,” he shook the biscuit tins, “and when they’re confused, we’re going to get our wands back.”

“How would goblins not being able to communicate equate to us getting our wands?” Malfoy looked as if he were fighting off a headache. “That doesn’t tell us where they’re keeping them. And what makes you think, Potter, they’re going to eat these cookies in the first place? We’ve already been in there! They’re not going to trust us enough to eat anything we give them!”

“That’s where the cloak comes in.” Harry pats the area just under his jumper where the invisibility cloak rested, neatly folded to conserve space. “One of us will stay under the cloak. The other will sneak round the counter and see if they can find the wands.”

Malfoy darted a look towards the open end of the alley, where they could just make out the Gringott’s entrance. “Well, as you’re the one who can summon wandlessly, that’ll be you. I refuse to crawl about on my knees in these trousers. Especially since there’s much better I could do on my knees.” Malfoy gives Harry an even look. “That is, if you trust me enough with the cloak.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “I’d much rather hear about what you think you do so well on your knees.” 

“Let’s get through this fiasco,” Malfoy shrugged, and smoothly caught the tin that nearly fell out of his arms and into the snow. “And maybe you’ll find out.” 


	15. Chapter 15

Harry handed Malfoy his biscuit tins and pulled the invisibility cloak free of his clothing. Unfurled with a snap of his wrists, Harry secured it around their shoulders. The wind shifted direction and the snow continued to swirl around them. As two fully grown men, they had to stay close in order for the cloak to cover their feet, and in the warm, enclosed space, they had to angle their bodies so that they faced each other as if in a dance. Harry slipped an arm around Malfoy’s waist to keep them steady as they moved slowly from the alley and across the street. His body felt strong, yet supple, and Harry swore he could feel Malfoy shiver as his hand applied slight pressure to the dip at the small of his back.

“Don’t get handsy, Potter,” Malfoy hissed. “This is neither the time nor the place.”

“Trapped in a goblin’s ice room is more your style?” Harry chuckled. His puffs of air ruffled the fine strands at Malfoy’s temple. “We have to talk about it at some point. Like the fact that you came onto me first.”

“That's because I came up with the _plan_ first. It was  _ for _ the plan.” They made their way up the steps, and Harry could tell from Malfoy’s dismissive tone that he didn’t mean any of it. “Don’t think for a moment that if it hadn’t been anyone else, I wouldn’t have tried what I had to to get out of that room.”

They stopped right outside the doors. Harry did not release Malfoy but instead tightened his grip, slid his hand just a fraction lower so that his intent was clear. “But it wasn’t anyone else, Malfoy. It was you and me.” He stared into stormy grey eyes that flashed with challenge and something deeper. “I think it’s always been us.” 

Their eyes stayed locked for a long moment that seemed to stretch taunt like a rubberband, fragile like spun silk, liable to snap at the slightest provocation but delicious in its tension. Malfoy looked away first, eyes trained on the the fuzzy knit of Harry’s jumper as he swallowed, hard. Harry could only imagine what was going around in his head at the moment. He felt if he could only see his face he might be able to tell, but honestly, it was probably why Malfoy refused to look at him. 

Harry sighed. They had to get their shit together. Their mission was too important. 

“Are we doing this or not?” Malfoy grumbled, and his voice pulled Harry out of his thoughts once again. “Stop daydreaming and put your gameface on. Biscuits on the counter. You behind it. Send a Patronus when you find the wands. The safe word is  _ Severus _ .”

Before Harry could book any argument, especially to the safe word and why the Potions Master’s first name and sex could possibly be linked in Malfoy’s mind, Malfoy trod hard upon his foot and moved Harry in the direction of the doors. 

They waited for a witch in a long overcoat to to come walk through the entrance. The train of her garment left the doors open just long enough for Harry and Malfoy to slip through, undetected. One foot in front of the other in their pseudo-waltz, they once again approached the high counter. A different goblin sat there now, a bronze nameplate engraved  _ Litflick _ pinned to his chest.

Harry glanced around the large foyer. It was getting late now, and the bank would be closed soon. There weren’t any other customers behind them. “Go!” Malfoy hissed, with a sharp pinch to Harry’s side. Harry bit back a yelp and dropped to his knees. He could only trust that Malfoy wouldn’t have any trouble getting the  _ Caroling Cookies  _ in the goblins’ eyeline and distract them long enough for him to accomplish his task.

At the end of the counter, Harry spotted a small locked door that raised on hinges to let authorized personnel through. He hurried forward on his hands and knees, doing his best to keep quiet. Harry narrowed his eyes and focused his power, directed towards the hinges to silence them with a wandless, wordless,  _ Muffilato _ , then gave the same treatment to the lock with an  _ Alohomora _ . 

It did not work on the first attempt. Harry swore under his breath. Felt a bead of sweat slide down the length of his neck. He glanced over his shoulder back towards where he suspected Malfoy stood. Sure enough, the tip of a shiny boot appeared in Harry’s line of vision, attached to nothing at all, and kicked in the direction of the locked door before it disappeared again.

Harry turned back around and channeled his frustration with Malfoy into the spell. This time the lock popped easily. With a silent cheer, Harry rose onto his knees and turned the knob, then pushed the hinged part of the counter up as discreetly as he could manage. So far so good. 

He was on the other side now. Tiny desks with countless money drawers snapped opened and closed. Gold and silver coins of all denominations weighed themselves on platinum scales. Several Goblins sat with abacuses, the beads loud as they clicked and clacked against each other while shuffled to and fro on their wires. 

“Accio wand,” Harry whispered as he molded himself to the side of a desk, while a goblin with a green visor passed. He held one of the frosted cookies in his hand, raised it to his mouth to take a nibble. Harry braced himself as he tried to shift his position for a better vantage, and his hand nearly swiped a mason jar full of candy canes that decorated the desk behind him. Harry grit his teeth. “Accio Malfoy’s wand!” 

All around him, Harry could hear the flurry of activity as the goblins went about their work, quick and efficient. He strained his ears for the familiar zip of magic, the tug he felt in his core when something he summoned responded from him and moved through time and space to obey. His muscles seemed to ache with nerves. 

“ _Imne zoso fiscuits axalo poricieus, fut tee swook te fo whoaxarthupp!_ ” One of the goblins said to another, and bit into his cookie with fervor. Harry recognized what he thought might be Gobbledygook, the goblin language but recognized none of the words. “ _Yos fut di riko zom_ ,” said the goblin in the visor, as he pointed to his coworker’s waistline. The first goblin opened his mouth with an indignant frown. “God rest ye, merry gentlemen!” The goblin’s eyes went wide. He clapped a gnarled hand over his mouth.

The goblin in the green visor roared with laughter. “He sees you when you’re!” His eyes too, large and round as a yellow moon, filled with horror. The two looked at each other, obviously confused. Harry scooted back on his hands as they began to signal, frantic, to another goblin. 

Towards the far end of the room, a metal door stood ajar. Harry hurried towards it, almost there when a third goblin in a red bowtie walked right into his path. 

“Rudolph!” He shouted, as he sprayed crumbs from his mouth that caused Harry to wince. “The red nose! Reindeer!” 

Before he could think the words, Harry extended his hand and cast the first spell that came to him. “ _ Ebublio _ !”

With a loud pop, the goblin was encased in a giant bubble that trapped his body, bowtie and all, and floated towards the ceiling. The goblin pounded his little fists on the unyielding shell of the bubble, his shouts muffled as he rose. “Had a very shiny nooooose!” 

With no time to spare, Harry launched himself in a crouched run towards the open door. He reached it with two more goblins on his tail. Harry dodged their hexes and tossed two more bubble jinxes over his shoulder before he flew through the steel door and slammed it shut behind him. 

“Shit.” Harry leaned against the cool metal and caught a quick breath. He hoped by now Malfoy had managed to get away or figured out a plan that would lend to their escape. There was no way for them to contact each other now. Harry had to believe that the prat would be alright until he was able to meet up with him again. 


	16. Chapter 16

Harry straightened and glanced around the room. Three of the four walls were made up of small metal doors, each numbered and locked with a keyhole. In the center of the room was a cool metal table under which was a slightly raised tile that looked to Harry to be a trapped door. 

His heart sank. While it was obvious valuable items were kept in this room, there was no way a simple unlocking spell would give him access to the contents of each vault. Above him, Harry saw that the ceiling was enchanted, not unlike the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Stars twinkled above him head and Harry studied them as he tried to collect his thoughts and figure out what to do next.

The north star was never hard to find. Even when he and Ron had goofed off in Divination, Harry had paid enough attention to catch the basics. He’d never admit it at the time, but he’d found himself fascinated by the idea of the night sky, found something romantic in the idea that his Godfather was somewhere up there. And as one of the only students named after a constellation in his year, it was difficult for Harry to separate Draco from his stargazing. Afterall, Draco the constellation was one that never set - just a few points down from the brightest star in the sky, noticeable all year long.

Harry squinted. He could also see Sirius. They were in late December now, but the sky above Harry’s head was most definitely spring, perhaps summer. Sure enough, Harry recognized Leo, his own sign, and the only other constellation he’d bothered to learn how to locate on his own if only based on house pride. 

A sense of calm settled over Harry as he traced the shape of the lion with his finger. “Harry Potter,” he whispered aloud. His birthday was July thirty-first. Seven, three, one. Harry spun on his feet and moved to the closest wall, examined the numbers on the lockers. They were four digits each. He moved along and his finger grazed each door until he reached 0-7-3-1. 

“Open,” Harry said, and somehow he knew the door would. Sure enough, the lock turned without the use of a key and the door sprang open of its own volition. Harry leaned closer. Inside lay his wand, as well as what looked like a red sequined heart. Slowly, Harry picked them both up. In his hand, his wand buzzed with the familiar weight and hum of his magical signature. The heart, Harry noticed, emitted a strange heat -- a warmth that seemed to pierce his chest and made it feel both warm and overwhelmed as if the depth of its heat were too much to contain.

It was silly. Harry knew it was silly. But something told him that his warmth -- this heart that tightened in his chest with a brilliant ache -- most certainly had to do with Draco Malfoy. 

And as if in response to that thought alone, the constellation that as his namesake, seemed to glow. Harry glanced up at and then back at the lockers. He holstered his wand and squeezed the heart in his palm as he moved to his left. Draco was born earlier than Harry, sometime in June if he remembered from bits of gossip. Harry hovered around the 0600s -- but which day?

Harry raised the hand that grasped the heart. “Point me.” He felt the way his pulse sped in up, almost painfully, in his chest. His eyes darted over the small doors as he looked for a sign. 

Just as Harry was about to give up hope, his tight shoulders slumped in defeat, a locker next to his left knee, sprang open.

Unfortunately, so did the steel door behind him.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to increase the rating :')

Malfoy’s pale head appeared out of thin air as he whipped off the cloak’s hood and entered the room. Harry heard the faint sounds of commotion from beyond the door, a series of thuds and metallic bangs.

“As everyone believes you to be the most brilliant wizard of our age, I probably shouldn’t ask -- but why are there half a dozen goblins floating about the lobby of the bank?” Malfoy’s eyes were amused, alive with excitement and adrenaline.

“Half a dozen?” Harry pretended to think as he returned Malfoy’s smile. “You’ve added a few.”

“I’m surprisingly good with copycat spells when I want to be.”

“You mean when you have a chance to show off.”

“I _ did _ do it without a wand,” said Malfoy, and he looked smug. “I’d say that’s worth showing off. The great Harry Potter isn't’ the only one who can do wandless magic.” He glanced down at Harry’s occupied hand. “But I suppose wands aren’t an issue anymore?”

“No.” Harry dropped Malfoy’s wand into his outstretched hand with a beatific smile. “Don’t ask me how I got it, we haven’t the time.”

“Well now I  _ have _ to know.” Malfoy wasted no time in casting diagnostic spells as he searched for an exit. The noise outside the door was louder now, as footsteps joined the cacophony. By the sound of it, there were a lot of them. Harry didn’t want to wait to see if they were friend or foe.

“Can’t go back the way we came.”

“We won’t have to.” With a flick of his Hawthorne wand, Malfoy caused several of the room’s lockers to swell and expand. They slide forward from the wall like outlying bricks in a series of stairs. The path created ran upward, right into the star-strewn field of the enchanted ceiling.

Harry shook his head. He had to shout to make himself heard. “I don’t understand!”

“Good! Now let’s go!” Malfoy hoisted himself up onto one of the makeshifts steps. He extended his arms to catch the next one and scrambled up, hands over feet as he climbed higher and higher. “Come  _ on _ , Potter!”

With no choice but to move, Harry swung himself up and copied Malfoy’s movements, just as the door below flew open again. The strength of the blow was enough to knock the door off its hinges and several angry goblins filled the room with axes, maces, and other sharpened

Weapons.

“Malfoy!?” Harry felt for his wand, raised it just in time to cast a _Protego_ on them both. Knives, glowing red with angry heat, bounced off the shield. Harry felt his grasp on the metal stair he clutched onto as he aimed, begin to slip.

“I know!” Malfoy had his wand pointed to the ceiling. “ _ Revelio Statim! _ ”

A black hole appeared directly over Malfoy’s head. Immediately it began to suck everything into the void, a powerful vacuum that caused papers to swirl, the fabric of their clothes to whip wildly around their heads. “Give me you hand!” He shouted to Harry. His blonde hair obscured his eyes and he tried to shake it, impatient.

“You’ve gone mad!” Harry’s heart pounded in his chest. He attempted to catch Malfoy’s hand and failed, barely able to catch hold again of the wall. He slipped his wand back into his pocket. Gulped for air. “Fuck!”

“Harry!” Malfoy shouted and there was no mistake. The urgency and fear in his voice was real, eyes wide as he extended his arm once more. “Now! I can’t!” Malfoy’s hand released the metal block and he slipped through the hole just as Harry caught his hand with a great shout.

“Rwwwarr! Malfoy!” Harry tightened his hold on Malfoy and closed his eyes, released his hold on the step completely and together, they disappeared into the unknown.

+++

“Oomph!” 

Harry hit the group, hard.

“Oww! Merlin, Christ!” Malfoy rolled off of him and onto his back with a groan. His chest rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath. “Are--” He swallowed with obvious difficulty. “Are you alright?”

Hand to his forehead, Harry nodded. It felt like his brain sloshed around in his head with the movement and he forced himself to still. “Yeah. Yeah I’m okay. You?”

“I think my arse is broken. Perhaps you’d check it for me and make sure it’s all in one piece?”

“Please don’t make me laugh,” Harry snorted, the winced. “You must be alright if you can still try it on with me.”

“On the contrary,” Malfoy ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “The more frightened I am, the more forward I become. I’m seconds away from crawling into your lap and demanding you let me ride that thick cock of yours until I come so hard you have to bodily lift me off.”

Harry’s mouth went dry. “O-oh?”

“Yeah,” Malfoy nodded, weary. He looked about the room and Harry tried to shake the thought of Malfoy riding him long enough to follow suite. They were in the foyer of a very large home. Straight ahead was a magnificent Christmas tree, decorated in lovely pale baubles that shone prettily in the light from the skylights above it. A grand staircase decorated with massive boughs led up on both sides to the landing, where a second Christmas tree sat framed by giant pillars.

“Where are we?” Harry said with awe. He thought it might be a muggle home, as the furnishings were quite modern. But as they’d been sucked through a wormhole in the roof of Gringott’s bank to get there, there remained a small chance that the stately home just might be Wizarding.

Malfoy, who looked very unconcerned with their surroundings, began to crawl over to Harry on his hands and knees. His eyes had grown dark, smouldering. He moved with the grace of a leopard or something beast of prey, on his long legs.

“I want to suck you off.” Malfoy looked directly into Harry’s eyes as he closed the space between them. Straddled Harry’s knees. “I’ve wanted to for some time. You have no idea how sexy you are, Potter, when you get heroic.”

“You hate when I get heroic,” Harry said, proud when his voice doesn’t tremble. He felt his prick respond to Malfoy’s touch as he ran his hands up Harry’s thighs and squeezed.

“Yes, because I hate how hot it gets me.” Malfoy’s fingers played over the fastener of Harry’s trousers. “You annoy me to no end. You’re reckless and naive, and you want to help everyone you come across even when they don’t deserve it.” He licked his lips and Harry was unable to tear his eyes away from the movement. Warm puffs of air hit the exposed skin of Harry’s flesh as Malfoy lowered his head. “I can’t get enough of it.”

There was no more warning. Harry’s hands scrambled for purchase on the hard, wood floor as Draco took him into his mouth. He was engulfed in a tight wet heat, so good that Harry threw his head back to revel in the suction as Draco’s cheeks hallowed. He kept eye contact with Harry as he took him deep into his throat, then pulled off wetly to lick at Harry’s foreskin, pulling it back to expose the head before he dipped his tongue into the slit.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck.” Harry’s fingers found their way into Malfoy’s hair as he raised his hips, pressed just a fraction deeper into Malfoy’s mouth. Malfoy hummed his approval, brought one hand down to circle the base of Harry’s prick as his hand and mouth moved in tandem. The sensation sent white hot heat down Harry’s spine as he slowly fucked into Malfoy’s mouth. Felt the same heat coil in his belly as Malfoy bobbed head and slurped. Harry knew he wouldn’t last. 

Malfoy’s lips were red and swollen as he spoke. “Don’t cum in my mouth, Harry. I want to see it.”

“Haah!” Harry’s body seized, eyes shut, as his breath caught in his throat, only to be forced out of him in a long, shuddering groan. Malfoy stroked him all through it, darting littles nips and kisses until he finally sat back on his haunches, cum smeared on his lips.

“Draco?” Heels clacked down the stairs, then stopped, sudden. Harry blinked hazy, forced his eyes open. He turned his head and wanted to immediately die on the spot.

Malfoy scooted back and wiped a hand across his mouth. “Hello, Aunt Andromeda.”


	18. Chapter 18

“Andromeda!” Harry sprang to his feet and his face felt like it was on fire. He hurried to tuck himself away, winced when his still sensitive prick brushed elastic. “I didn’t know you were here! Draco and I were just--”

At the bottom of the stairs, Andromeda shook her head. She looked pain. “You don’t have to explain, Harry. I think there’s only so many ways to interpret things.”

“You’d be surprised,” said Draco -- and he was Draco now, in Harry’s mind -- as he gave his Aunt a small bow. “You’ll forgive me for not shaking your hand, but you know.” He gestured to Harry who cringed.

“Yes, I get it,” Andromeda stressed. “I’m just glad you’re both safe. When Hermione Granger contacted me and insisted I bring Teddy to one of the winter homes to hide, I didn’t know what to think. Is everything alright?”

“We’re working on it,” Harry reassured her, doing his best to inject confidence into his voice. “Where’s Teddy, is he upstairs?”

“Yes, I put him down for a nap about an hour ago, but he should be awake soon.” She aims a hard look at her nephew. “Thankfully he didn’t rush down here to get the eyeful that I did.”

Draco shrugged. “He’s a growing boy. I’m sure a tiny, toddler-sized Obliviate would probably do the trick.”

“He’s joking!” Harry said when Andromeda took a step forward, her eyes narrowed. Harry turned to Draco with no attempt to hide his exasperation. Was there no one Draco could resist giving a hard time? “You could have told me this was one of your family’s homes.”

“Technically it’s one of the Black properties,” Draco said. He had the grace to look contrite. “One of the newer homes, which meant not many would know about it if they were trying to look for us. I had to think fast on my feet, and I always enjoyed going on hols with my parents during Christmas, so..” He avoided Harry’s eye.

“It was smart.” Draco’s head snapped up as Harry smiled at him. “Really.”

“So, what will you do now?” asked Andromeda. “Teddy and I will stay here as long as we need to, but I’ll be frank: Ronald and Hermione mentioned something about Head Auror Robards missing, as well as a set of war orphans. I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

“It isn’t,” Harry agreed. Now that they knew the man (or woman, his brain supplied) that had been in their presence had been an imposter, it left Harry overwhelmed. Where were they supposed to start? For all they knew this person could be long gone with whatever he’d used Harry and Draco to distract the goblins from.

Harry tried to think back to the first time they’d encountered the imposter. It had been the night of that fateful trip to Harrod’s with Teddy, after three of them had been taken down to Security. He’d approached them first, had shown them that book, and transformed right after Teddy had asked why the photos hadn’t moved..

Something about that niggled at Harry’s brain. Why had it been so important to show them that book in the first place? And what did his godson’s comment have to do with it?

“Andromeda,” Harry walked over to her. “We need to speak to Teddy, it’s really important. Is it alright if we go up?”

“Be my guest,” she nodded and stepped out of Harry’s way to give him access. “It’s the third door at the end of the hall, on the right. But do let me know if you’re leaving Harry, or I’ll worry.”

“Of course! Thanks Andromeda.” He took the stairs two at a time.

“Yes, thanks Aunt ‘Dromeda! When this is all over we’ll do lunch! My treat!” Draco tossed over his shoulder as he followed in Harry’s wake, in such a hurry he nearly upset a small glass nativity display on a small end table on the landing.

Once they reached Teddy’s room, Harry quietly inched the door opened. Teddy was still in bed, his brown hair just visible beneath the duvet he’d wrapped himself in. The bedroom was one of the more traditional wizarding rooms in the house, with no electricity wired into it, dependent on magic to draw the blinds and heat the room. Harry watched as Draco used his wand to light several of the candles in the room before Harry gently nudged the small boy awake.

“Ted? Teddy, wake up cub. It’s me, Harry.”

“Harry?” Teddy rubbed his eye sleepily, his hair stuck up in the back in little licks when he raised his head. “Is it Christmas?”

“Fraid not,” Harry laughed. It was good to see his godson. He was relieved to know he was safe and sound in spite of everything, and Harry resolved to keep him that way. “Draco and I have come because we need your help.”

“Draco?” Teddy seemed more awake now, and his face lit up at the mention of his cousin. “Are you here to take me ice skating? You promised we’d go and I’ve been practicing with those skates Auntie Cissy got me!”

“And I can’t wait for you to show me,” answered Draco. He ruffled Teddy’s hair as he sat upon the bed. “But Harry and I have something we must take care of, first. You’ll help us won’t you?”

“Yes!” Teddy grinned.

“Good lad,” said Harry. “Now do you remember when Draco and I took you out to the big department store a few days ago? The one with the giant peppermint forest display? And Draco and I got in trouble because we had a bit of a disagreement?”

Teddy nodded several times. “You mean when you pretended Draco was a quaffle and tried to beat him with one of the big candy canes?”

“Err, yes. Well, when we were down there we met that strange man. The one that showed us his funny book and then told us to take you home.”

“The one that’s like me!” Teddy crowed triumphantly.

“Like you?” Draco tilted his head. Harry got the distinct impression that the gears in his mind had already shifted into action. “What do you mean?”

“A meta-- a metamoph- angus!”

“A metamorphmagi, like you and Tonks.”

Teddy nodded again. “Yes. He changed from the guard into that man you both knew. And he showed us his book with all his friends, with the funny pictures.”

“Those weren’t his friends, Teddy, those were bad people. He showed us those pictures to make an example,” Harry shook his head.

“Not-uh,” Teddy insisted. “Those were his friends! There was a pictures of all of them together. I saw them when he was yelling at you. They’re all like me and can look different whenever they want!”

Harry felt a chill wash over him. The imposter who was going around disguised as the Head Auror had taken them to that run down safe house and introduced them to his charges. A group of war orphans, he’d said, who Harry and Draco needed to escort. And right after he and Draco had overheard that strange phone conversation, those same orphans had insisted on being taken to Diagon Alley and disappeared into Gringotts the first chance they got.

Harry sought Draco’s eyes, and Draco stared back, a look of pure shock on his face. “Those little bastards…!”

“Teddy!” Harry took put a hand on each of the small boy’s shoulders. “Do you remember what any of them looked like?”

Teddy screwed up his face, pursed his lips in thought. It was adorable, and in any other circumstance Harry would have found himself charmed by his godson’s antics. These were the kind of moments that made him miss Tonks horribly but happy to see her alive in her son. Teddy’s hair began to lengthen, turning blue. His eyes were ringed with thick, black, eyeliner and he had a small piercing in his nose.

“Yes,” Draco said with a nod. “I think that will do nicely.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair. “Andromeda is going to hate us for this.”


	19. Chapter 19

It was with many assurances of Teddy’s safety, and the additional unnerving threats to both sets of bollocks if anything happened to her grandson, that Andromeda reluctantly allowed Harry and Draco to take Teddy with them as they left the safety of the Black Winter Estate and apparated back to the location of the rundown building the imposter had fooled them into thinking was a safe house.

It hadn’t been easy -- the first time they’d travelled there was by Floo, and the man posed as Robards had made sure not to tell them the location. But they’d had their wands on them then, and Draco had cast enough spells while they were there that they were able to trace the location backwards with a Priori Incantatem.

Since joining the academy, both aurors and auror trainees were now able to use the incantation as not only a way to view the previous spells cast by a wand, but the location in which it was cast and with what intent the wizard or witch responsible used it. The improvement was just one of many implemented after Harry’s days at Hogwarts and his encounters with Voldemort. The irony wasn’t lost on Harry that this was very much like the Barty Crouch Jr. incident of his fourth year.

Constant vigilance, fake Moody had warned.

Not once in the short time that he’d known the real Alastor Moody had he said those words to Harry, but he liked to think that Moody knew in the way of Crouch’s betrayal, he wouldn’t have to. At least, not in the same way. Not to Harry.

“Through here,” Draco said, using his wand to illuminate a dank doorway in which several planks of wood had fallen slack. They could just fit through the opening and gain entrance to the building.

“The room we Floo’d into was on the other side. What, can’t be arsed to take the same way twice?” Harry whispered. He held Teddy, who was now back to his original form, close to him. He’d made sure to dress him warmly, glad for the ear muffs they’d slipped over his ears.

“They’d expect us to do that,” hissed Draco. He ran more diagnostics, casts a few spells to silence their footsteps. “What we need to do is see if they’re in there. If they are, we put Teddy under the cloak and we ambush. If not, we see what we can find to figure out where they bloody hell they went.”

“We’ve got to tell the aurors about Robards now. There’s no way we can sit on that any longer. They may well have him tied up somewhere.”

“Right. Which is another reason why we ought to search the areas we haven’t seen yet. Send a Patronus to Weasley so he knows what we’re about.”

Harry huffed an exhale. At least they had a plan. It seemed he’d grown used to allowing Draco to boss him around. Off went the spectral stag, Teddy’s awed face full of wonder as it galloped out of sight.

Harry insisted on entering the building first. They sandwiched Teddy between them, with Draco at the rear as they headed farther in. The was no light inside. No decorations, no rats or vermin to scurry past their feet as they walked from room to room -- just an eerie silence that seemed to grow louder the longer they remained there.

They reached the hallway that led to the room with the telephone. Draco gingerly opened the door, wand at the ready, but there was only the cracked receiver on the table and a scrap of paper with a what looked like a map of Gringott’s, including the antechamber and underground rooms.

“Well, this would have benefited us the first time around,” Draco drawled. He crumpled the paper in his fist and pitched it across the room.

“Let’s try the room with the Floo,” Harry said. He wasn’t ready to give up just yet. There had to be a clue. The conversation they’d overheard mentioned meeting someone. Getting something they really needed. Harry shook his head. He wished he just had some kind of clue to piece it all together.

“Harry?” Teddy curled a small fist into the knit of his jumper. “I don’t like it here.”

“I know, cub.” Harry lifted Teddy into his arms and hoisted him onto his hip as they entered the next room. If things kept up at this pace, they really would have to turn it over to the Aurors. Might even have to consult with Scotland Yard and the Ministry’s Paris branch.

Harry trod on an empty carton of cigarettes. Northern Lights.

“Nothing here,” Draco threw his arms up. “I even checked under the mattress. Just an advertisement to meet Father Christmas at his workshop. A few condoms. This is nonsense!” He sat upon the thin bed, then immediately launched back up. “Shit!”

“What?” asked Harry, bringing he and Teddy in for a closer look.

“I don’t know, something sharp--” Draco ran his hand over the area he’d just vacated and stopped. “There’s something in there.”

Harry shifted Teddy’s weight as he reached for his wand. He signalled for Draco to step back and aimed at the spot he’d rubbed. The mattress ripped and several dark stones, that resembled lumps of coal fell heavily onto the ground. Except they couldn’t be coal, because they were sparkling, just like--

“Diamonds!” Draco shouted.

“But why here?!” Harry asked aloud, his eyes round. Father Christmas. Northern lights. Lumps of coal.. But it couldn’t mean what he thought it meant. Could it?

“Draco, look over there!” Teddy kicked at Harry’s waist as he pointed with excitement at something next to the fireplace. It was on the ground, set back in the dank shadows so that it would be easily missed by anyone who casually entered or exited the room. Eyes narrowed, Draco nodded to them and walked over. He nudged the lump gently with his foot.

Harry shone his wand on it. “It looks like a yule log.”

Indeed, a bundle of logs were tied together with a tartan ribbon and sprigs of holly and evergreen. However, there was a small, white index card attached with something written in a hasty script. Draco tore the card off and kicked the log back into the corner.

“What’s it say?”

“Do not pout, there will be no outcry. He’s told us why. Santa will reign, dear. Elves in the shop and the bag has been secured. Head north. Robards will guide the slay.” Draco grimaced. “What the hell does any of that mean.”

“The bag is secured,” Harry repeated aloud. “They’ve gotten whatever it was they were looking for. And now they’ve headed north.”

“To see Santa?” Teddy’s earmuffs were no longer on his ears, but around his neck as he watched Harry’s face with interest. “He lives at the North Pole with his elves.”

Draco made a face, like he wanted to correct this misinformation but Harry shook his head. Robards will guide the slay. It could be the action. But it could be a play on the world sleigh.

“But they’ve gone without the diamonds,” Draco said, with an aborted gesture to the stones that still lay strewn across the floor. “Why would they make a drop without the actual goods.”

“Maybe they do have the goods, just not all of them,” Harry reasoned. “It would make sense if one of them was skimming off the top. If they’re metamorphmagus, it would be easy to disappear once the jobs done and everyone’s ready to go their separate ways. Posing as war orphans so no one notices what they do outside of the holidays when everyone takes pity on them out of guilt. It makes sense.”

“And you think we should head to the North Pole to see Father Christmas.” Draco’s voice was very flat. “You, me, and my very young cousin.”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “Not just us. We’re going to to need backup.” He turned towards the Floo and threw some powder in. “Ron and Hermione will be easy. But the trip’s too long to take our brooms. I’ve got a way around that.”


	20. Chapter 20

  
“Thanks for your help, Luna,” Harry shouted above the wind and Teddy’s screams of excitement. “I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t answered our call.”

“It was no trouble at all, Harry.” Luna’s blonde hair streamed behind her to brilliant effect, the deep, inky, dark of the night sky a brilliant backdrop to her pale features. She stroked the neck of her thestral, and it brayed peacefully as they soared side by side. “It’s a lovely night for a ride if you don’t mind the occasional icicle up your nose.”

“That’s not a thing!” Ron shouted from the back of his own thestral, Hermione’s arms wrapped around his waist. Under his freckles he looked a bit green, but held himself together for the sake of the mission. “It’s not even that cold out for this time of year!”

“Speak for yourself, Weasley,” Draco said, and his teeth chattered as he slid closer to Luna on the back of the skeletal horse. Of course Malfoy could see them after the war. They all could now, and it was obvious to Harry that he was still a bit frightened of them. If Harry hadn’t had to hold on to Teddy for dear life, he rather thought it would be nice to fell Draco’s arms wrap around his waist, his chest pressed to Harry’s back.

“I’ve got it!” Hermione raised her wand and Harry felt a powerful warming charm settle into his bones.

“Granger, I could kiss you!” yelled Draco. “But I fear your ginger boyfriend would have some words about that.”

“I’d push you off that Thestral Malfoy, but I fear Harry would take off right after you.”

“Look!” Teddy shouted. He pointed his little hand down at a large white dot below them, barely more than a spec as high up as they were. “It’s Gringotts!”

“No Ted,” Harry said for at least the third time since they’d left, after Luna and the small fleet of Thestrals she’d borrowed from the grounds at Hogwarts had taken off together, footprints left in the snow. “We’re over the ocean. That’s probably a boat or an iceberg. Gringotts is way back in London.”

“How much further?” Draco asked. He cast a Tempus and Harry was startled to find it was nearly two in the morning.

“Not long, now! We’ve got to pass through the Aurora so the pole with reveal itself. Father Christmas is a very private man and he keeps his island under a disillusionment charm for the better part of the year.” Luna used her knee to nudge the Thestral into a bit of a turn, and the others followed in its wake.

Harry felt the powerful flex of the horse’s muscles as its wings stretched to accelerate. His heart was beating with excitement and nerves, the way it always did before he rushed in to another of the strange, wondrous things that seemed to always be part of his life. Sort of like the people around him. Ron, Hermione, Luna, Teddy… Draco. As strange as it was, whatever was ahead, Harry couldn’t imagine doing it without them.

It happened in a rush of color and light. One moment the sky was dark, stars and ice and cool breeze that sliced through their coats and hats as they flew across the sea. Then shimmering, mesmerizing light, in a kaleidoscope of colors surrounded them, playful pinks bleeding into spring greens and soft lilac, that undulated in a glittering mass and streamed down in radiant beams.

Then Harry saw it. A mass of pure ice, blanketed in snow. Large trees surrounding an extremely huge castle that looked as if it could fit two, maybe three Hogwarts inside. The whole building gleamed, slick as if it were made of ice, except for another building that looked like a cottage. Warm smoke piped cheerfully into the air from the cottage chimney and several reindeer grazed out in front. Their heads slowly rose from the grass as the Thestrals began to circle, flew lower and lower to bring Harry and the others in for a landing.

They’d made it.

They were at the North Pole.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapters while I try to catch up 💦 We're in the home stretch!

“Muffilato!” Hermione immediately threw silencing charms over their group, as well as the Thestrals. Once she was done, they stood in the shadow of the ice castle, blanketed by heavy silence, as they waited for Harry to give their next instructions. Even Teddy, on nothing more than a lark, sensed the gravity of the situation.

“Right, then.” Harry stepped forward. He craned his neck up until he found an entrance -- a door off to the side, cut into the blocks of ice, that led back into a far hall. He supposed with all the enchantments and wards in place, Father Christmas had no need for looks. “We’ll go in through there. Once inside, we’ll need to locate real Robards.”

“How will we know it’s him?” Ron asked in a loud whisper. Behind him, Draco grimaced.

“Metamorphs don’t have any physical traits we can use to identify them with,” Harry said. He’d learned that early on from Tonks when she’d mentioned her Auror training. “But can’t hold their form when they’re in a heightened emotional state.”

Luna nodded. “You rarely meet Metamorphmagus infected with wrackspurts for that reason. Although, when it does happen they seem to attract twice as much due to the rarity.” Her voice took on a dreamy note. “I imagine they’d make excellent bait.”

“That sounds a bit cannibalistic,” said Hermione with pause. “But you’re on the right track. Perhaps if we run into Robards we’ll have to work him up a bit.”

Draco shook his head. “Your definition and my definition of worked up are vastly different.” He glanced at Harry from the corner of his eye. “But I’m sure Harry could clear up any confusion I have on the subject.”

The heat of Draco’s stare made his face heat. “Err, yes, well. I’m sure you’ve got a handle on things.” He winced at his word choice. “That is to say, I know you can handle it.” Harry shook his head, exasperated with himself. “Let’s just go.”

He did not miss the way Ron turned to mouth “Harry?” at him, both eyebrows raised. Harry gamely ignored him and continued to blush.

The hall was also made of ice, lit by a series of enchanted lanterns that opened onto a wide, circular foyer that resembled a grotto. There were many trees, all decorated in multi-colored fairy lights and hanging ornaments, like a forest of Christmas trees that rose up from the ground covered in their finery.

As they admired their surroundings, a boy with wiry hair and knobby knees wandered into the room. A lit cigarette dangled from his mouth.

“You!” Draco cried, his finger extended. The boy stared back, frozen with alarm. “You went to take a piss hours ago. What do you have to say for yourself?”


	22. Chapter 22

A beat of silence passed. It took as long for the ash to drop from his cigarette before the boy dashed back in the direction he’d come, running at top speed. 

“Harry, wait!” Hermione’s shouts followed Harry down the hall as he took off, the boy in his sights as he turned a corner up ahead. Except, Harry thought as he ran, the boy wasn’t a boy at all, was he? Even after all this time, Harry couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t just the Robards impersonator causing trouble, but an entire group of metamorphmagi who’d linked up and gone into hiding.

Behind him, Harry heard the pounding of feet against the marble floors. Safe in the knowledge that the others had joined him in the hunt, he didn’t look back. Instead he concentrated on what was in front of him, took in his surroundings and the path they were running in case he had to find his way back. Teddy would remain safe and protected, which left Harry open to go all out if necessary. 

Away they zigged and zagged. Harry pulled away from the pack as he gained on the boy, and it was just the two of them when they finally reached a dead end.

“Who are you?” Harry shouted, his breaths labored by exertion. “What did you do with Gawain Robards?”

The boy seemed much more comfortable now, which did not bode well. “I’m nobody,” he shrugged carelessly. One of his small brown hands smoothed over the icy walls. Harry had the impression he was feeling for something. “And I’m anybody I want to be.” The boy’s fist closed around a small latch as beneath them a trap door slid open beneath their feet. It was just then that Draco rounded the corner, his eyes wide as he took in the scene before him.

“Harry?” Draco lunged forward and grasped onto Harry’s jumper just as they fell through the floor.

The ground rose up to meet them with a crash of brambles and limbs. Harry felt them scratch at his skin, little nicks that irritated, more than they stung. Beneath him, the branches dug into his body and made it hard to know where to put his hands as he struggled to sit up.

“Draco? Are you alright?” Harry could hear the way he muttered murderously, shifted his body in the bath of multi-colored lights. Lights shaped like snowflakes and candy canes floated above their heads, blinking incessantly .

“Yes, yes, I’m  _ fine _ . Bloody hell.” Pale hair askew over his forehead, Draco reached forward, not for Harry but for the back of the boy’s tatty robes as he tried to move away from them. “No you don’t. Where the fuck are we?”

Instead of answering, the boy looked at them over his shoulder. He smiled, and his face began to change. Harry’s eyes widened. Limbs elongated, hues shifted, and silver tufts of shiny blonde hair erupted from his head. There were two Draco’s now, one grabbing onto the other, both sat amongst the discarded Christmas trees and twinkling lights, as they stared at Harry.


	23. Chapter 23

There weren’t just two Dracos. Out of the shadows all around, at least half a dozen men identical to Draco Malfoy surrounded Harry, all dressed in the same black coat and too-tight-to-be-Auror-regulation trousers. Each of them had disheveled white-blonde hair that shone in a kaleidoscope of colors. Scratches on their hands and faces from the branches. 

Unsteadily, Harry climbed to his feet. The two Dracos nearest him grabbed onto each other’s coats, in an attempt to pry the other’s hands off, while simultaneously holding him in place. The others closed in wearing various expressions of amused malice. Harry felt his stomach turn.

“Harry! Don’t just stand there gaping like an idiot, bind them!” The eyes of the Draco on the left were wide and slightly panicked.

“Don’t be stupid! I’m Draco, you prat!” Spat the Draco on the right. He looked agitated and murderous. “Now hurry up! We have to find Robards!”

Behind Harry another Draco whirled him around by the shoulder. “Potter, we’ve already found Robards. I’ll take you to him.” He pressed his chest and thighs flush with Harry’s and when he spoke again, his voice was a low purr. “Then we can go somewhere and be alone.”

“Stop it!” Harry said gruffly as he pushed the man away. He knew there could only be one real Draco Malfoy in the room, but it was another thing to hurt someone that wore the face he knew so well. Wore the citrusy musk of Draco’s scent on his body. And really, it was alarming to know that a metamorph could transform down to that fine a detail.

“We don’t have time for this!” Harry shouted to the room at large. He pulled his wand. “Tell me something only the real Draco would know.” More clones had fallen to their knees so that they were all on the ground. It was impossible to choose Draco by sight or position now. “And make it snappy!”

“Are you always this impatient?” Asked one Draco as he sat back on his haunches.

“Yes!” At least three shouted at once.

“Madam Malkins!” Shouted the Draco standing behind him. The one who’d pressed up against Harry. “The first time we ever met, before I approached you on the train. It was in Madam Malkins’ and we were being fitted for robes.” He looked down at his feet, his cheeks ablaze. “And your pants are blue. When I went down on you, I remembered thinking it was the last color I’d have imagined because you’re sentimental and you assign meaning to everything.”

At once Harry was overcome by the desire to take Draco’s face in his hands and kiss him breathless. The words made Harry feel warm all over, because he could hear the sincerity of them. Draco  _ knew _ him. But even better than that, he  _ understood  _ him. Harry grabbed his hand quickly, linked their fingers.

“How the hell did you get behind me?”

Draco shook his head. “You were too busy staring! Probably thinking about some kind of, orgy - is that what you’re into, Harry? I have to warn you now, I don’t like to share.”

“But you do want to go somewhere to be alone?” Harry raised an eyebrow, even as he felt his face warm at his daring.

I had to do something to get your attention!”

It was Harry’s turn to get his attention now. Harry gave in and pressed his lips to Draco and kissed him with all the relief and gratitude he couldn’t word. Draco melted against him with enthusiasm. Harry nibbled at his bottom lip before he pulled away and when Draco made a small noise of protest from his throat, Harry snorted.

“Don’t worry. As long as I’ve known Draco, you’ve been impossible to ignore. Have you really found Robards?”

“Weasley and Teddy. They found him in one of those rooms upstairs and Teddy was able to verify it was him. You’d never believe that child,  _ he _ was the one to remind Weasley about the coffee--”

“Oi!” The other Dracos in the room surrounded them, wands pointed. “We hate to break up the reunion lovebirds, but did you forget about us?”

“So you’re together again, so what? How do you plan to face the rest of us, when it’s just the two of you?”

“Yeah,” another voice rang out. “If you group has Robards, the jig is up and we’ve got nothing to lose.” From under his jumper,  _ Malfoy’s jumper _ , Harry thought to himself, the imposter pulled a dagger with two dragons that flanked a large ruby at the hilt. “There’s nothing to stop us from doing away with you.”

Draco stepped in front of Harry, his face set. “Why?”

The man looked back at him, a mirror of his own face. “What do you mean,  _ why _ ?”

“There’s no reason to kill us. You’re all metamorphmagi. Masters of disguise. One of the rarest magical skills in the world and yet you all managed to find each other after the war. You remember the war don’t you? All those people who died. All the loved ones you lost?”

“Draco, what are you doing?” Harry hissed. The last thing they needed to do was upset these criminals who were outnumbered them. Especially ones with sharp weapons in their hands.

“Don’t you see, Harry?” Draco said, as he raised his voice. He seemed to be addressing the room at large, but he kept his eyes pinned on Harry’s face. “We need to  _ remind _ them. Of how horribly, depressingly, _ sad _ the war was. How  _ emotionally compromised _ it left us all.”

Harry eyes fluttered and grew wide.

“You saved so many of us, Harry. But after the war, even you had trouble coming to terms with it all. So did I. My aunt died. Crabbe.” Malfoy’s voice shook for a moment before he cleared his throat. “Right, Harry?”

“Y-yeah.” Harry looked around the room. Slowly, the disguises of the others had started to slip as they looked at each other in confusion. “There were wandless wandering the streets for months afterwards.  _ Real  _ war orphans, with no food to eat and nowhere to go.”

“We  _ are _ real war orphans,” said the girl with blue hair, her voice harsh. She still wore Draco’s trousers, but her nose ring shone in the reflection of the fairy lights. “We were just doing what he we had to do! Dodger’s the one who put us up to it.”

“The Ministry didn’t care what happened to us,” said a stocky teen, whose hair was still blonde, despite his appearance that had doubled in size. “He told us we only had each other. That if we could use the holidays as our cover. No one would suspect orphans during Christmas. People just feel sorry for ‘em.”

Harry pressed his lips together. The boy wasn’t wrong. Even he was ashamed to admit that part of the reason Harry paid so much attention to Teddy was to escape his own demons. To remind him that he had family in Harry, that he would be better off than those in the foster system or wandering the streets. He glanced at Draco and saw the same look of guilt on his face.

“Is that why you stole the diamonds?” Harry asked. Slowly he relaxed his shoulders, and the boy with wiry hair who held the dagger, lowered his hands.

“Yeah. They were disguised to look like coal. We were supposed to drop them here under the guise of visiting Father Christmas. Only…”

“Only you set some aside for yourselves. And Dodger found out.” Draco concluded.

The boy nodded and Harry remembered the diamonds they’d found in the mattress of the safehouse. The angry conversation on the phone and the way the orphans had insisted on going caroling near Gringotts.

“But why us?” Draco asked. “What did we have to do with anything?”

The girl spoke up again. “Everyone knows Harry Potter. He was our insurance. That way we’d be able to carry out the mission without suspicion. Dodger said he showed you two the book and you didn’t recognize any of our faces. Couldn’t even tell he was a Metamorph. He’d gone to Harrod’s to track the metamorph boy and when he saw you two, well..”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. Dodger had been tracking  _ Teddy _ . How  _ dare  _ he.

Draco placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and squeezed. His jaw was set as he nodded at Harry, and Harry was struck once again with the truth of how thoroughly Draco Malfoy had come to know him. How much more he had to learn about Draco, despite what he already thought he knew. _ We’ll get him _ , his eyes said, hard as steel, yet somehow more beautiful for the ferocity they held.

Harry watched as Draco turned back to the others in the room, who stood waiting.

“Dodger. Take us to him.”


	24. Chapter 24

Wands held at the ready, Harry and Draco were led by the orphans up through a hidden staircase at the end of the room, back into the Grotto. They were now in what Harry assumed were their true forms, though he supposed, he’d never truly know for sure. Deeper and deeper they walked into the heart of the Ice Palace, as their collective footsteps echoed off the frozen walls. 

Finally, they reached a gilded archway of shining glass built above a heavy pair of doors. The girl with blue hair held her hand out in warning. “This is Dodger’s domain. Just beyond these doors.” Her eyes searched the two Aurors faces. “We’ll do what we can, but Dodger is powerful and he knows how to use your weaknesses against you.”

Harry nodded, his shoulders tense. He jutted a thumb towards Draco in an attempt to lighten the mood. “My weakness is right here. We’ll be fine.”

“I ought to hex you for that.” Malfoy made a disgusted face, despite his blush. “It will have to wait. You ready?”

“Ask me if I’m scared.”

Draco fondly shook his head. “You wish.” Together they pushed through the doors and the orphans flanked them on both sides.

On a giant throne of ice at the end of a red carpet, sat Dodger. Despite the fact that Harry had never known his true form, somehow he still knew. Dodger was bald. No eyebrows, no distinguishable features. Bizarrely he wore the famed red coat, pants, and black boots of Father Christmas, but there was something about his eyes that Harry instinctively recognized. A cruel, slightly manic glint that held mirth in a vice grip.

The walls of his lair were made of ice like the rest of the castle, a veritable feast set behind him on long tables, wrapped presents set on several tables. There were plush hangings and squishy cushions thrown about the floor. And yet, the whole room held an air of something sinister.

“You found me.” Dodger brought his hands together in a slow, lazy clap. “I’m impressed. Much faster than I anticipated.”

Harry strode forward. “I don’t think you tried very hard to hide.”

Dodger nodded. “That’s true. When you’re a Metamorphmagi, you get used to hiding in plain sight. Games of cat and mouse mean I get bored easily.”

“And you’re the type who likes to play with their meal.” Draco said, finishing the idea. He rolled his eyes. “Really, could you be more cliche? Why did you lure us here? We know what you’re up to and you’re outnumbered.”

“What, because of them?” Dodger stood to his feet. “Those kids are useless. I just needed them to get the diamonds and now I have them.” He indicated the big red sack sat slightly behind his throne, piled high with sparkling stones. “I don’t need them anymore.”

“You lied to us!” Cried the boy with wiry hair.

“You’re nothing but an arsehole pimp!” Added the girl with dark hair as it swung around her face.

“ _ Immobulus! _ ” Draco’s voice rang out, his wand pointed. Dodger was ready for him. He ducked into a somersault, rolled until he on his feet with his own wand in hand. “Cruci--”

“ _Expelliarmus_!” Harry roared as he ran forward. He blocked Draco, though there was no need, the spell cut off as the wand flew out of Dodger’s hand. Dodger eyes flashed.

“Not bad!! I’m having fun!”

Harry narrowed his eyes in confusion, his wand still pointed. He ought to bind Dodger and get it over with. Perhaps Obliviate him. Behind Harry, he could hear Draco pant, the others children tense as they clutched each other. There had to be a reason they were still wary despite Dodger’s loss of his wand.

“Ho Ho HO!”

Harry snapped to attention. Before him, Dodger transformed again. Not into the muggle security guard or Head Auror Robards. Instead, snow white hair sprang from his skull, a fluffy beard formed all around his jaw. His gut extended and jiggled like a bowl of jelly.

“You-!”

“That’s right, Mr. Potter.” His eyes twinkled, his cheeks round as he extended his palm towards Harry. “ _ Glacius! _ ”

In an instant, Harry’s body exploded with pain, skin seared by an icy burn as his entire body from his neck down was encased in ice.

“Tsk! I wouldn’t go do that Mr. Malfoy, I really would not.” Dodger leered in his Father Christmas form. “Not if you don’t want me to pay a visit to your dear Mother. She asked for the most amusing thing this year.”

Harry could not see Draco, but could imagine the angry in his eyes at the mention of Narcissa. Harry racked his mind. Tried not to concentrate on the cold, but the wandless, wordless spells he knew.

“Don’t you mention my mother as if you know her, you fetid old fool.”

“But don’t you want to know, darling?” Harry clenched his teeth as before him, Dodger transformed just head into the pale, elegant face of Narcissa Malfoy.

_ Incendio _ would take too long.  _ Finite _ ? Not on a charm Harry hadn’t cast. Not without the use of his hands.

“Stop it!” Shouted one of the girls in the room. “It’s not right!”

“ _Incendio_ _Caeruleus_!” Harry had to shut his eyes. A wall of blue flames sprung up and spread around the floor and formed a ring around them all. Harry could feel the heat of the flames at his back, despite the ice of the room, and knew instantly he’d been separated from Draco.

“Harry!?” His voice cried from somewhere beyond the fire. It was hard to hear over Dodger’s cackling, his _Ho ho ho_ s that seemed to never end.

“You idiots! You fools! This whole castle will melt, and drown you before you can put the flames out. I’ll be long gone by them!”

“Draco!” Harry shouted, as he struggled to make his voice heard. “Don’t worry about me! Take the kids, find the others, and get out of here!”

The flames were closer now, crackling loudly in his ears. Harry closed his eyes and summoned his magic. Attempted a Finite that didn’t take. A desperate  _ Inpulsa! _ worked to crack the ice but did not break it.

With one last look of triumph, Dodger grabbed his sack and threw it over his shoulder. His face reverted to that of Father Christmas and he fled through the other side of the flames.

“Fuck you, Potter!” Draco’s voice shouted. People shouted, ran, coughed, all out of Harry’s sight. “You think I’m frightened of a little fire??”

“Yes!”

“Well, I’m not!” Draco appeared before him. His face and clothes were covered in soot and dirt, his blonde hair matted. “And I’m not leaving without you! Now channel!”

All around them the blue flames rose as the frozen walls dripped and melted with the heat. Yet they could not hold a candle to the press of Draco’s lips as they met his own. The kiss tasted of a fierce longing, and of desperation. But there was strength, too. Something that Harry felt down to his core, and he clung to it. Drew his magic up through him in a rush of heat, and kissed back with all the raw want and power he could. Harry put all he had into it. Into  _ Draco _ .


	25. Chapter 25

The block of ice that encased Harry did not break. It  _ shattered _ .

Millions of little ice shards, so fine they could be sand, exploded around them and dissolved almost instantly into puddles in the heat.

“Come on,” Draco grabbed Harry’s arm and half pulled, half dragged him to his feet. They were still shaky and the prickling sensation of pins and needles hit him with every step. “We have to catch him! The others escaped--” Draco’s head whipped around. “There!”

They bolted through a door in the direction Dodger had taken off, wet from the puddles that splashed up as they ran. The entire castle teemed down upon them, and Harry pulled his wand to deflect the falling debris and rain before it could block their path.

Outside, cold air slammed Harry in the face, ripped through every fiber of his wet clothes as he and Draco broke through the last door and pitched themselves onto the snowy ground. They were behind the castle, on the other side of the reindeer pen. Harry climbed to his knees. The reindeer weren’t milling around as they were when the group had first arrived. In fact, they seemed to have assembled themselves into a formation, tied on leads.

“Harry!”

Hermione, Ron, and the others ran towards them, not a person in the group who was not sopping wet and dirty with soot, from the other side of the pen.

“He’s going to take the sleigh!” Hermione shouted. She pointed in the direction of the shed that housed the reindeer’s supplies, the wooden door wide open. “There’s a concealment charm, if we don’t stop him before he hits the sky, we won’t be able to stop him!”

“Use any force necessary!” Added Head Auror Robards, who looked good for someone who’d been kidnapped and impersonated, which was to say, alive. “We have to get those diamonds!”

“Sir!”

He and Draco had barely scaled the pen when the reindeer began to cant, their hooves restless as they kicked the ground. The snap of a whip cracked the air in two, and Harry rushed towards it as the sleigh came into view, Dodger at the reigns.

“Go!” Draco yelled. They both caught onto its legs as it left the ground, and they were in the air. Harry grit his teeth as he clung to the steel. He swung his legs for leverage, in an attempt to scale the sides.

“Fuck!” Draco hung on by one arm, the other using his wand to shoot at Dodger. “Harry,  _ do something _ !”

“Yes, Harry!” Shouted Dodger with glee from above them, his own wand out now. “Do something! Come at me!” His fist slammed down on Harry’s hand and he cried out in pain as he redoubled his efforts. Harry could only hope Draco would use the opportunity to take control of the reigns.

“You’re going to jail, Dodger!” Harry shouted. “You’re not Santa! You’re not anyone at all! You’re poor excuse of a man who’ll spend the rest of his days in Azkaban!”

“And you’re no longer The Boy Who Lived!” Dodger aimed his wand directly between Harry’s eyes. “ _ Avada KedavraaAAHHHH _ !”

Harry opened his eyes again, tightened his grip and blinked wildly as Dodger went flying over the side of the sleigh. Draco’s smug face appeared in his field of vision.

“Do you think we ought to let him drown in the Arctic?” Draco hands dug into Harry’s arm and the back of his clothes as he heaved him into the sleigh. The wood dug into Harry’s torso as he fell bodily onto Draco, and he knew it would likely purple and bruise tomorrow.

“Dodger? It seems like a viable option.”

“I thought so, too.” Draco sighed. The wind whipped at his hair, gilded silver in the moonlight. Harry watched as he pointed his wand down into the darkness. “ _ Wingardium Leviosa! _ _ ” _

Hermione would be proud.

“Happy Christmas,” Harry smiled. He cast a full-body bind on Dodger as he came into view, floating level with the sleigh. At Harry’s side, Draco took hold of the reigns. “I’m sorry to say, Dodger, I think you’ll be getting a bit more than coal in your stocking this year.”

The man could not wriggle, could not open his mouth. Still, Harry felt Draco cast a Silencing Charm his way just in case.

At that moment a fleet of thestrals rose of of the darkness, Hermione, Ron, Teddie, Luna, Robards, and the orphans upon their backs.

“This is not how I planned to spend my holiday!” Ron shouted into the night.

“Agreed!” Hermione said as she pressed closer to him on their thestral. Her hair had begun the process of drying into a fuzzy cloud. “I’d rather be somewhere warm next year, writing ‘Happy Christmas’ in the sand!”

“Good news, then! I’ve officially converted to Yuletide!” Harry shouted back with a laugh.

“That means more presents!” Teddy said happily, as Luna hugged him close, the wings of their thestral extended wide.

“And coffee. _Please_.” Added Robards.

Harry glanced over at Draco, whose attention was focused on something in the distance. Harry leaned in close and looked over his shoulder. “What is it?”

“You won’t believe it.” One slim, pale finger directed their attention to the owl who grew larger by the second, a small pouch in its beak.

Harry threw his head back with laughter. Wrapped his arms around Draco’s waist and pulled him close, their bodies easy as they melted into one another. He’d had had his doubts, but in the end, it only went to prove one thing.

“It’s true what they say,” Harry laughed again, pressed his smile into Draco’s cheek. “Anything’s possible.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! I made it! Thank you so much to anyone who took the time to read this silly story. It was fun to write, even with all the mistakes and time crunches, haha. I had a lot of fun. Thanks to the mods of this fest for their hard work, despite being ill and all the wonderful people who encouraged me. Happy Christmas / Happy Holidays to you all. ❤️


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